


Outsider: Steve Rogers

by StarryNighty



Series: Outsider [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied Death, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Sexual Assault, Sexual Fantasy, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25426483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/pseuds/StarryNighty
Summary: Summary: Steve, 1936 has just buried his mother Sarah. He has to find away through the world without her guidance, and make a life for himself.Reminder that this entire story is explicit dark!Chapter Warnings:  Angst, smut, talk of virginity, disturbing situations, stalking, death, non-consensual sex, assault. Proceed with caution.A/N: Shout out to my bff & beta @titty-teetee!!  <3 Thank you for planting the idea about a Steve back story to Outsider. I compiled my notes and create this little diddy!I hope ya’ll like it <3
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Black OFC, Steve Rogers/OFC, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Outsider [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514882
Comments: 33
Kudos: 33





	1. Sugar

__

_**Brooklyn 1936** _

She was buried on a Thursday. Steve stared forward with eyes fixed on the thin paneled coffin. He was grateful to the Barnes Funeral Home for their special considerations discount. His mother had worked hard for them, mending dresses and jackets a like for the dead all while working as a nurse. She was a great woman, a great mother and did the best she could for him. 

Her resting place hovered above the six foot deep hole, the casket was delicately decorated with a fragile doilies Steve’s grandmother had made. It had been Sarah’s favorite, his mother’s singular heirloom she only took out for special occasions. 

For moments like this. 

Mrs. Spencer stepped to his side, grazed his cheek with a light kiss and passed pleasantries of hope to him before walking off. The same came from Mrs. Kirk, and then Miss. Hadie the colored seamstress his mother had befriended. 

“Make sure you come by and eat.” she said softly with a southern draw. 

She squeezed his wrist forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Don’t make me have to come and fetch ya.” 

“I’ll come by.” he said with a tight smile.

Miss. Hadie’s big floppy, tattered floral hat waved as she nodded. “Good, see that you do.”

Steve turned back to his mother’s grave, glanced at his father’s simple headstone, before resting on her newly etched stone. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

Steve wasn’t the last to leave, a few stayed from the small crowd and lingered while he did his best to sneak away. He ignored the soft comments, the sighs, and walked further into the cemetery toward another exit. 

Steve let the street sounds of life take him in. He wandered through the Brooklyn borough, wove his way around past spots he had shared with his mother. It did not help to fill the void in his spirit. But it did settle what he already knew, she was gone and he was here. 

Now there was no worry about being questioned about how late he was coming in, or where he had been. Or his mother having to apologize for his odd behavior. Yeah, she was gone and he was here. It was a time to live up to the dreams his mother knew he could aspire to. Like his father, while a terrible parent, left something inside Steve to act. But he had no idea what that life could look like.

Steve made his way back toward the janky apartment building. And there was Bucky, standing near the stairs leading to the two room home looking like a dapper old guard of Brooklyn. Shoulders straight, he couldn’t slouch if he tried, dark hair combed back like a proper businessman. 

Steve looked toward the stairs and started to climb. One after the other so did Bucky, with a sigh he spoke gently. 

“Hey, we looked for you after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery.” 

Steve swiped blond strands out of his face, he tried to keep the emotion out of his voice. “I know, I’m sorry. I...just wanted to be alone.”

“How was it?”

“It was okay. She’s next to Dad.”

They continued forward toward the home he once shared with his mother. Bucky reminded him, as always, he didn’t have to go through this alone. But in true Steve fashion, stubborn and resistant to help where he knew damn well he could do it, did his best to resist it.

“I’m with you to the end of the line, pal.” Bucky had said with little charm and all heart. 

Steve broke character with a smile and a nod. “Fine,” he said.

“You probably could use a man to hold your boxing gloves,” Steve teased as the grin began to grow.

Bucky scoffed, his narrowed eyes shifted to the laundry flapping in the breeze between the buildings. “My Pop still isn’t seeing why I like it, he just appreciates the bills I come home with.”

Bucky’s hard expression moved from tired to giddy in the sense that his smile lit up the sadness in his eyes. 

“Hold my gloves, shine my shoes, you’ll get paid as long as you’re on time,” he said.

“I’m always on time, that’s you, Buck.”

Steve felt satisfied with his new found job, he turned from Bucky, unlocked his door and walked in with Bucky right behind him.

“I have to get back soon, Pop wants to go over the books.” 

“Still training?”

He could hear Bucky nodding as he spoke, “Yep, four times a week- you know where it is.”

“Ma wants you to come over for dinner.”

Steve tossed his key on the rickety round dinner table and shuffled off his jacket. “-Can’t, Miss Hadie. I promised her I would show up at her place,”

He quickly glanced at the cheap watch on his thin wrist, half past four. “I have to be there in an hour. I gotta wash up still.”

Bucky held up his hands, “Fine, but come by after,” He pointed at Steve, flashed a handsome smile.

“I wanna show this mag I got. Miss Piston is looking mighty fine this year,” he said wickedly. 

Steve waved him off as Bucky showed himself out with another quip about the size of her ‘juggs’. The heat rose in his cheeks as he thought about that. He considered it too much, the growing chub pressed against his slacks became uncomfortable while washing his face and then combing his hair. 

By the time he was out of the door, and down the street his mind was swirling with vision of the pretty girl in Miss Hadie’s neighborhood. Steve walked quicker, glanced again at his watch as he stepped foot onto her block, just in time, he thought. He stopped near the newspaper stand, he was small and fit perfectly near the corner without anyone really seeing him. 

And then she appeared. A pleasant smile spread red lips, hair puffy with the sides pulled back into shell swirls on either side of her pretty head. Wide hips swayed as the eye catching, bright yellow and white dress floated in her wake. She looked like a daisy, with thick stems pushed into equally bright sunny heels. 

Dark skin glowed in the evening light and Steve’s heart stopped. He stepped from around the stand like a stunned man who was unable to hide his want any longer, he ogled her dramatic stride. A rush headed straight to his groin while he remembered how she smelled on her underwear.

He didn’t know who she was, where she was going but she was walking further down the street and away from him. Steve quickly crossed the street, keeping his eyes on the woman he dodged taxis and merchant trucks with as much agility as a dying chicken. 

That effort taxed him, he was already breathing hard, the muscles in his legs burned but he kept up with her. Three or four people behind her and tried to not look crazy as he stared at the curve of her ass.

He remembered what Bucky had said; ‘Girls like a strong man, someone who’ll tell’em what to do and how to do it.’

Steve knew exactly what he was talking about. And Steve wanted to show her how to do it. Hell, dames like her most likely already know what to do, he thought. He would never have her completely, she was too beautiful, too confident to be with the likes of him. He just wanted a taste of what she had to offer. A duping smile twitched in the corner of his mouth as he recalled the memory of making a mission out of grabbing some of her sweet nothings. 

An entire hour spent in the late evening climbing the fire escapes in the dead of night outside her building. She was always the last to bring in her laundry. He managed to snatch the silky fabric from the line and dash away with his heart beating out of his chest. 

Steve’s eyes moved up the fabric covering her back. That had been a great night, he thought, remembering what he did with them after.

Steve kept getting closer, he saw the fruit stand coming up and knew this was his chance. She always stopped to smell the oranges. He half jogged, half appeared to be on his way in a hurry, the people grew into a crowd around the stand. It somehow helped him more as he rushed through them toward her. 

At last, with a simple bump his bony body pressed against her back, his hips thrusted forward rubbing himself over the mounds of her soft tender ass. The crowd continued to grow, Steve inhaled the scent at the base of her neck and dipped out fast before she even turned around.

Just as he passed the barrel of small red apples Steve heard a voice call out his name. His heart dropped to his heels, the voice of a woman was coming from behind him, where his sweetheart stood. 

“Steven Rogers!” she called again. Steve turned around, the crowd was thinning as people walked around him on their way. 

Miss Hadie emerged as another bunch of women walked away with their goods. Steve’s heart finally returned to a normal beat as he smiled and lightly waved toward her. He began to walk back toward her but again, his heart practically stopped as the daisy, his sweetheart, stepped from the side of Miss Hadie.

“I--” Steve mumbled, and wondered if he needed to issue an apology for starring.

“This is my niece, Iris Cheyne.” said Miss Hadie, proudly. “She’s going to join us for supper.”

Steve nodded slowly and dropped his eyes, awkwardly he held out his hand and shook hers. He regretted that in his nervousness he didn’t fully take in the creamy texture of her skin or how warm she felt in his hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Steve Rogers.” he said quietly. 

The three of them walked a few buildings down to her apartment building. As he remembered Miss Hadie’s home smelled of food, with a sole sewing dummy in the corner of her living room that had stacks of rolled fabrics. 

His mother’s friend hurriedly rushed to her stove to check on the food she had left warming there. Steve stayed near the door, watching Iris, observing how she moved around Miss Hadie with grace. 

How she lovingly glanced at her aunt and he knew right away this had to end. Iris was family.

Miss Hadie made Steve sit at the head of her table while she and Iris sat near him. Iris passed him a platter of cornbread squares with a sweet smile he hardly was able to witness.

Steve’s voice dropped to just below a whisper, “Thank you.”

Yes. Iris was family. He would have to let her go.

* * *

Bucky sat perched between the ledge and an exhaust vent, with a dingy white tank, and the ankles of slacks rolled up to his thighs. He reached over the smooth stone, plucked a cigarette from the pack and stuck it in his mouth, lit it as he spoke.

“So talk to her,” he mumbled with a shrug.

Steve sat below Bucky on the floor of the roof, his pants were rolled up too with a threadbare tank top barely covering his bony chest. He leaned back against the warm bricks and drew his legs up. He stared up at the night sky and stole sniffs of Bucky’s thick white smoke. Somewhere a baseball game echoed passed the last of the days laundry, kids playing, and the bustle of life in the borough.

“Easy for you to say,” said Steve wiping the sweat off his upper lip.

“’Can’t say she’s that cute. But hey she’s keen for ya, should be easy enough. Just say, can I take you out?”

Feeling a bit more confident, Steve looked up at Bucky he nodded with a broad smile. “I’ll try, just give me some time.”

“And she’s beautiful by the way. You just can’t see it.” Steve chuckled.

Ruby Russell stacked sesame seed buns with all the grace of a bull in a china shop into the front window. Bushy, blonde curly hair hung over her shoulders as she brushed an escaped strand out of her eyes. The pins were useless, Steve decided, or rather it was because she was raised without a mother. She did not know what to do with it but it enamored Steve. 

Chubby red cheeks flustered to a shade of rose while she wrung her hands on the frilly pink apron after she was done. Steve sat in the far back of the bakery hidden by young women and men bustling about without care for him. 

Ruby, still behind the counter walked the length of it with his eyes still glued to her. She disappeared for a moment and then returned with a tray full of pastries from the kitchen. Quickly she walked to the glass case and began filling the empty spots. 

She did that messy too, knocked off a few bits of cloud like sugar from the tops of one of the desserts. Steve admired her rough goings, he thought it was meaningful the way you would think a dog chewing on a sock would be. He had known her since they were children, the quiet girl that always smelled of sugar and flour at school. They teased her for her size, for her timid nature and called her _big sugar_ though said sweetly.

At least she noticed him. With a tender smile she grinned at him from across the bakery. She was the motherly type, a young lady perfect for being a wife. To Steve, Ruby was lovely. 

He snapped out of the gaze and looked at his watch. Damn. He was going to be late for the first time ever to meet up with Bucky. Steve stuffed in his mouth the last of the one cent slice and walked out the door.

Steve stepped out on the sidewalk and quickly swooped in and out of the people walking in front of him. His mind slunk back to Bucky’s words from a few days ago. It was one of the warmest days on record according to the radio news man. A heatwave that had him and Bucky clingy to the rooftop by night to catch a breeze. Bucky had suggested, like it was the easiest thing to do, to talk to her. 

Steve rolled his eyes as he squeezed between two women laden down with their weekly groceries. He turned down the side street and jogged to the back entry of the training club. A few guys hung around, perched on stacks of empty crates or on garbage pails, they ignored the skinny guy huffing as he climbed the stairs. 

Once inside, Bucky was easy to spot. “About time,” called Bucky from the doorway of the back room. His boisterous voice turned heads, elicited snickers from the men Steve passed by. 

“I got caught up,” announced Steve, breathing hard. 

“Whoa,” Bucky tossed his wet towel at Steve. “Slow down, breath a bit, pal.”

Steve nodded, shaking off Bucky’s worries and walked passed him further into the locker room. Bucky followed close, eye balling his friend while wiping water from his face. 

“Caught up with what?” he asked, but then laughed as he spoke. “With the bakery princess?” he continued with snark.

Steve dismissed the blatant disrespectful comment with a shrug and got to work gathering Bucky’s gear. 

Bucky countered Steve’s mood with a softer tone. “She’s got great dimples, got that going for her at least,” he said. 

With his back still to Bucky, Steve mumbled while grabbing the boxing gloves until his voice dribbled out. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about her. I doubt she would go dancing with you anyway.” Steve clipped off as he stuffed Bucky’s gloves into the near new duffel bag. 

“Oh ya?” challenged Bucky and rounded on Steve. 

Steve’s chin rose as he stared daggers up at Bucky’s smirk all but daring him to continue his line of thinking. 

“Maybe you’re right.” Bucky backed down and ruffled his hair, while stepping back. Steve watched after him through narrow eyes. He only dropped the leer when Bucky started to dress.

That settled it in Steve’s mind, he would have to get up the confidence because he had just found his nerve.

* * *

A new day, a brand new opportunity to ask the girl of his dreams out for a night of dancing. Steve’s hands clammed up in his pockets as he waited for Ruby’s attention. She was smiling, talking fast while taking the order from the woman beside him. His gut twisted into a knot as she glanced over him as she folded the bag and handed it over to the woman. 

Ruby’s feathery voice said something, though he wasn’t sure what. Steve was caught in between the moment at hand and remembering how many times he had gone to sleep replaying her voice.

She cleared her throat, glanced at the line behind Steve and spoke up again. “What will it be Steve?” she asked.

“Bucky was in this morning, bought most of your favorites I’m afraid.” she added.

Steve faltered with his words, he glanced at the sign at the top of the glass case. It wasn’t his usual order, the penny slice. He wanted to look like he could take care of her with how much he could spend. 

“I’ll take the buck-fifty, in apple - if you have it.”

Steve watched Ruby’s hands tug apart the pastry roughly, she pulled off three and attempted to gently place them in a paper bag. 

“This is a rich dish! Are you eating it all alone? Or are you treating Bucky today?” she asked with a smile. 

“He’s not good enough for these, it’s all for me,” he replied, surprisingly his words rolled off his tongue. An idea flashed in his mind and quickly he smiled at Ruby.

“But I think they should be shared, what do you say? 

Ruby paused over the keys of the metal register and stared at Steve in surprise.

“You wanna go to the matinee? Bet we can sneak these in, no problem.” 

Another woman behind Steve grunted rudely in an aggravated grumble that shook Ruby too. 

She gave him his change, with a shy smile that hid her teeth. “Yes.” she said quietly as her cheeks flushed to pink.

“I’ll meet you out back after I shut down.”

Steve’s heart soared, his spirit light as he walked out of the bakery door, with sweet goods in his arm. A careless smile stayed on his lips, his eyes wide open looked upon the city as he had never seen it before. It was different, it now had him in it, a man with a _date_ tonight.

* * *

The night was a colossal wreck. Tears streaked Steve’s crimson cheeks as he pushed through the door of his apartment. He threw the bag of sweets across the room, tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest and titled his head back. 

Steve steadied his breath as another wave of tears slid down the corners of his eyes. 

“Not her…” he whispered. 

He tried not to see it again. But his mind set the pace, it threw up the last image he wished would burn in hell. Bucky was wedged between the thighs of _his_ girl, _his_ Ruby along the grimy alley wall like she was a professional. Ruby’s soft voice rang in Steve’s ears, her desperate moans of pain and maybe pleasure, he wasn’t sure. And Bucky’s comment, _god damnit_. Steve dropped his legs and covered his ears while trying to shut it out. 

_“See, kitten,”_ Steve could still hear the grunt in Bucky’s voice like he was still standing there watching them. _“Just a little nick, doesn’t hurt like you thought.”_

Steve remembered her fuzzy blonde hair poking out along Bucky’s shoulder, how hard she breathed with him inside her and felt sick. She should have been his, that was his moment, Ruby belonged to him. Anger burst inside Steve at the same time igniting the bravery to do as others wouldn’t. He stood, shook his head trying to rattle the fear away. Steve’s mind focused on Ruby. His throat tightened up and walked to his room. Steve collapsed to his bed and wept himself to sleep.

The next morning Steve ignored the knocks on his door. It was most likely Bucky, come to remind him that he missed his job or to gloat. _Smug punk_ , thought Steve and rolled over, he went back to sleep. 

First thought, the current mood rolling across his mind was he didn’t need anybody. And told himself this about a dozen times before ever setting a foot out of bed. He stammered out of the blanket toward the tiny bathroom, he showered in hopes of scrubbing away the humiliation that felt like it stuck to every part of his skin. He stood under the cool water, let it drain over his face as he thought of her. Girls like Ruby were rare he had thought before. She wasn’t consumed with looks, while her legs were locked down tight, she could give you a taste of sweetness with just a smile. He scrubbed his face hard and remembered what he witnessed. 

None of that was true, she wasn’t rare or even special. She was just like everyone else. But what if that wasn’t true either. 

Steve pushed the nagging rage back down and then got dressed in fresh clothes, grabbed his wallet and walked out of the apartment with one thing on his mind, Ruby. He didn’t even remember the trip to the bakery, he realized as he stepped into the shop. In Steve’s mind, there was only one sure path. One where he and Ruby were one, happy, together. Who gives a damn how he got there.

He tried to hold on to that thought when he ordered from her. The same smile crossed her lips as the other day. He ignored it, or attempted to by only looking at the case. And when she whispered ‘sorry’ while giving him back his change Steve finally gazed at her.

“Whore’s gotta work too right?” he said softly back.

Her smile crumbled. It hurt him to hurt her, it really did. But she had to learn, the satisfaction that bloomed in his mind had him turning his back on her without another word. The situation nor his mood ever improved in the moments after he said it though. So he walked away and moved silently to his usual spot and sat down. Numbness started at his brain and crept down to his heels as he stared hatefully at Ruby. 

Another hit of epic retribution bounced on his nerves, gave him righteous purpose as he watched her become flustered and pink in the face. He could have sworn he saw a few tears, but couldn’t be sure. But he took it in, and felt the pleasure of her pain buzz on the skin of his cock. Good. The faces of the people within the shop became eyeless, lack of defined features as he watched her longer. The hopelessness turned sour in him. Once he could always find a way out of it but this, he saw nothing but a dead end to his madness. After an hour his nerve went limp with no resolution. He got up, left his trash, and walked around the city.

By the time Steve made it back home it was night. That feeling he got when he considered the worst, he couldn’t shake it. He wasn’t any better by a long shot, in fact, he was furiously agitated to the point he could barely see straight. The walls blurred with her face seared in his mind. _Fucked my girl, she let it happen._ The ache in his heart crossed paths with the longing in his groin. He wanted to know her completely. And to do it whether she wanted it or not. Steve turned right around, he walked out of the apartment slamming and locking the door behind him. Soon, he would feel better.

Steve barely had to apply pressure to the window as it slid open without a sound. He slipped in and sat on the seal while taking in the room of pink and light green. A few stuffed bears sat on a small chair near him, her robe draped over one of the arms he swear he could smell sugar. He hadn’t lost his nerve this time, he embraced the trespassing as a payoff for his thoughts. Steve’s eyes drifted to the small brass framed bed. Lit by nothing but the street light three stories down he could see her there, sleeping with no cares. 

He didn’t have to work up the courage to stand and walk near her bed. It was an easy action backed up by the goal at hand. He watched her sleep and thought about her body. He wondered how tight she must have felt for Bucky. Steve hadn’t felt anything like that before other than his hand with a bit of soap for ease. Steve studied the ghostly lines of her cheeks, the shape of her eyes in the dark. He thought about how her cherry should have been his and how...she would have been his first.

She could still be his first.

“You won’t mind this, but it should have been mine first. Ruby.” he spoke under his breath.

Steve unbuttoned his pants, zipped down his fly and pulled out his cock. With a steady hand he pulled back her poppy flower cover and gazed at Ruby’s breasts. Steve sighed at the sight of them slowly rising and falling through her thin gown. It was old and tattered to the point he could see her pink nipples below the surface. Steve palmed his length, grazed his knuckles around the curve of her breast with the other hand. He was dripping by now, his balls aching too. 

The power in this moment rushed through him like electricity. His hand shook as he slipped the pillow from underneath her head. But as her eyes began to flutter, Steve’s heart dropped, the tightly wound coil in his belly snapped and threatened the tenacity raging in his cock. Steve seized her momentary sleepiness and shoved the pillow over her face. Ruby made no sound at first, Steve imagined she might have thought this was a dream and stole the opportunity to hike up the hem of her gown. When her hands began to wave, grip out at him he yanked at her bloomers. With one hand on the pillow, the other tore at the seam and he spread his legs between hers. Steve fumbled with what to do next, he thought back to Bucky and how he used to say what went where. 

At the mere mention of his friend Steve shook out the memory as he stared down over her chubby belly. He scooted up closer, held his cock and began to prod for an entrance. One touch, nothing, on the second he slid in all the way to his balls and stilled with his mouth hanging open. 

Ruby had gasped, the sound of her teary voice spilled into his ache. Steve gritted his teeth at the snug fit he could have never imagined only with his mind. He held the pillow over her face with both hands and without much rhythm Steve thrusted in and out. Repeatedly, without much care Steve became lost in Ruby. Seeing her as his wife, mother of his children, he wanted to do this every night. And then he erupted within minutes, Steve’s hips twitched as the last of his cum dripped inside of her. 

Steve felt like he could do anything as he enjoyed the sensation of loving her completely. But his mind quickly cleared with the fog of pleasure and realized in horror that Ruby was no longer moving. Still inside of her he whipped the pillow from her face, now unafraid if she saw him or not. But she lay there, lifeless, eyes closed with her mouth parted in a distant scream.

Steve jumped off the bed with his pants and underwear still around his ankles. Horrified he stared at her body. 

Her _dead_ body.

Steve wanted to wretch but he took a step back toward the open window. He pulled up his pants as tears pooled in his eyes making what he saw of her blur in the dark. He wedged a knuckle in his mouth and bit down hard to stifle the scream that was stuck in his throat. The wail of a fire engine brought him back to where he was. Steve pulled himself back through Ruby’s window, nearly fell all the way down the fire escape ladders until he hit the alley. He took three or four steps away and promptly puked everything he had eaten. 

“She didn’t deserve that..” moaned Steve quietly and dry heaved again. 

“What are you doing there!” yelled a man from further inside the alley. Steve nearly collapsed on the dirty ground. But he pushed through and ran away. 

And when he made it home Steve began to strip. The clothes felt like it was burning his skin, searing the night into his bones and poisoning his blood. He kicked off shoes and stepped into his room with nothing but his thread-bare socks. He ran his hands over his face and remembered how she felt. So warm, wet…

More tears spilled down his face as his cock began to swell. It was his first time, Steve walked to the wall, cupped his face in the crook of his elbow. _Why did she have to give it up to Bucky_. Steve imagined Ruby without the pillow, and wanting what he had to give. A shaky hand glided over his length, he was hard as ever and the humiliation once again brought shame. But he couldn’t stop it. His mind spread the sensation of Ruby’s cunt throughout his body. 

“Ruby,” Steve moaned. “I loved you so much. Ruby why did you have to go and do that..”

Steve stroked quick while thinking about how her breasts bounced underneath him. God, she was as sweet as the pastries she peddled and then some. Her curves all over invited him to sink into her, through her with every thrust. 

So warm, he thought and again Steve came within minutes. But he stayed there against the wall, stroking the oversensitiveness forming at the head as a form of punishment. He deserved it.

Wet lips soaked with tears opened as he whispered,“My Ruby..” 


	2. 1943

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Steve hopes to successfully enlist.  
> Chapter Warnings: explicit, sexual situations, non-con sex. Proceed with caution.

Steve wore his regular, loose, ill fitting white button up with suspenders slung over his bony shoulders holding pants up that were a size too big. Balled up fists tightened in the pockets of his wind jacket as he watched from across the street from Goldie’s Gym. He clenched the grip when Bucky stepped out. Surrounded by men that wanted to be him but settled for his orbit. He was friendly, smiled a lot in the way that made you feel he was really listening. Bucky inhaled their phony platitudes and exhaled trustworthiness. 

Steve gritted his teeth and turned away from the Bucky. He had not seen his friend in more than a few days, which was a lot for them. He started walking, his chest tightened at the thought of where he was headed to now, he had to know but his thoughts still drifted back to the boxing club. Bucky was his only friend who knew him the best. Which is why it hurt more, dug in deeper that he could be a bastard and to take his girl. 

Steve wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket and smeared the wetness away from his eyes with the other side. His stomach grumbled, and gnawed on itself some more as he drew closer to his destination. And when he approached the corner of Russell’s Bakery he stopped and glanced in the window just above today’s bread. 

It did not appear to be gloomy within as he would have expected. There were no workers with a single black arm to signal the death in the family. Steve turned to the customers, they smiled and carried on with the staff behind the counter as usual. He took a deep breath and walked into the shop. 

He only ever wanted Ruby to see him as he saw her. Steve couldn’t help but stare at the three women behind the counter as he stood in line. And then he swore his heart stop right in his chest. Ruby appeared. His girl, taken in by Bucky’s slick friendly words, walked through the double doors, she was spiritless with blanched lips and dark circles under her eyes. The catch in Steve’s stomach tripled in pain, his scurried up his chest and he began to cough violently. He clutched at his chest all the while still staring at Ruby. She looked toward him with wide eyes and then ducked back into the kitchen. 

Steve walked out of the line towards the back of the shop where there was no one. He stood by the window attempting to pace his breathing. Ruby returned with a tall glass of water. 

“Here Stevie,” Ruby said weakly. “Don’t go dying in here.” She joked and attempted a small smile.

Steve took a long drink, he was quiet for far longer than was comfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t have called you that.”

Ruby suddenly blinked as if she were remembering the transgression. She patted her cheek with the back of her hand and looked at the floor. Ruby balled her hands into a knot in front of her. 

“Really.” said Steve. 

“You’re a nice girl.”

 _Just not mine_ , he thought. 

Steve handed the glass back to Ruby with a weak smile. He couldn’t look at her anymore. He took in the smell of sweetness before staring out of the bakery’s front windows. A figure caught his eyes, fuzzy from a distance, but he could guess with accuracy who it was.

“I’ll see you around Ruby. Take care.” he said and moved away from her ignoring the soft words she was trying to say.

Bucky stood at the same corner Steve had before he walked into the bakery. Bucky glanced everywhere but at Steve. But he stared up at narrowed eyes straining to stay open to the midday sun. He stood in front of Bucky waiting for him to speak first, he swore in his heart Bucky wouldn’t win this fight.

He got his wish when Bucky turned back to him, he looked him over thoroughly before he spoke.

“Jesus, you look like shit, punk.”

Steve huffed a satisfied sigh and looked away. “I look better than your night life.”

Bucky tilted his chin back and stared at Steve. 

“Maybe..the pickings around here are lacking.” And then gestured to the street. “Speaking of which, did you go in and say hi to Ruby?”

Steve’s head snapped up. “You’re an ass.” 

“Hey-”

“No. You didn’t even _like_ her. Why did you do it?”

The mischievous grin vanished as Bucky’s face relaxed. “I dunno, the way you talk about her. Like she’s this--this goddess. I had to get a peek.”

“You can have any girl out here.”

“But I don’t want _any_ girl.” Bucky countered. “I want a nice one. I dunno Steve, she--maybe because you liked her. You were watching her, right? I know you do.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Bucky shrugged, dug his hands in his pockets and looked away. “You’re a good judge of character is all.”

He shrugged again and rubbed his neck. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. Can we just move on. I won’t get in the way with her. I told her not to tell-”

“No, that’s over now.”

Bucky nibbled his lip and winced slightly. “So….are we still getting beers later?” he asked.

“I guess.” said Steve on a heavy sigh.

Bucky’s wince split into a smile as he grabbed Steve around the neck. “Honest to god, Steve. Won’t happen again.” he said and pulled him hard, then ruffled his hair.

Steve pushed him off and started walking. He concentrated on the dark stains on the concrete sidewalk while holding on to what little calm he had left. Bucky continued to talk about his next match, when Steve did not react, he casually brought up enlistment. 

And it worked, Steve drew himself out of his thoughts and listened close. He only ever wanted to be of purpose. Like all the times before, Steve would follow his friend down this path whether or not it possibly diverged. 

He was sick of being a bystander, he wanted to be in the fray.

* * *

**June 1943**

“You just don’t know when to give up, do ya?’

Steve had tasted his own blood before. Sure his jaw ached so bad it made his left eye twitch, but he held up his fist and awaited the next blow.

“I can do this all day.” Steve squared up and aimed high but he was slow to hit. The man blocked him and returned the favor.

He landed face down in the trash, his vision danced with bright lights and the sweet rotten odor of years worth of waste filled his nose. As unconsciousness threatened to close in he started to move again. He pulled himself off the dirty ground to the sound of a fist hitting flesh.

Steve glanced up, the figure of Bucky came into focus. “Sometimes I think you like getting punched.”

Hunching over attempting to will the splintering pain in his left temple a paper fell out of his jacket pocket. 

“What’s this?” 

Steve didn’t bother to look, he had been found out before and waited for Bucky’s lecture. “Oh you’re from Paramus now?”

“You know it’s illegal to lie on the enlistment form.” he added.

With revulsion staining is pitch, “And seriously, Jersey?”

Steve ignored the questioning, his vision cleared a bit and he suddenly recognized Bucky was in uniform. 

“You get your orders?” he asked, still admiring the cut of the jacket.

Bucky let it go, titled his chin back and gazed down at Steve. “The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England in the morning.”

Steve couldn’t help but sink further into hurt as regret and failure to act took over. 

“I should be going.”

Wiping the muck off his hands Steve finally looked up at Bucky with pursed lips. His friend’s smile slowly crept back in from guilty understanding and grabbed Steve around the neck.

“Come on, man.” said Bucky. “My last night! I got to get you cleaned up.” Steve recognized the sneaky emotion in Bucky’s voice, a pitch that did little to calm his nerves.

Bucky tossed the failed results into the wind.

“Why? Where are we going?”

Bucky handed him today’s paper, he unfolded it to an edge to edge print of an exposition coming to town. 

“The future.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he pulled back the small bag of popcorn. Last eligible man in New York his ass thought Steve and moved his eyes back to the stage. His mind shifted from his date’s rebuff to the rejection of enlistment. He hardly noticed the car with no wheels floating a foot about the stage. He doesn’t even understand how he keeps taking the hits. Jesus, only a moron would keep going. But here he was standing next to a girl who did little to hide her disgust. Steve turned front he stage, Bucky and his date, as well as the stuffy date and headed straight for the recruitment building he spied on his way in.

Too small, too thin, too everything. 

Steve’s head barely rose to the neck of the model that the machine projected his face on that read ENLIST NOW at the bottom. Feeling strangely unfulfilled Steve stared at his reflection until he was startled out of his thoughts by a shove. 

“Come on. You’re kind of missing the point of a double date.” chuckled Bucky.

Steve whipped around with a lump of surprise in his throat at being caught once again. 

“We’re taking the girls dancing.”

He stepped off it, an excuse forming in mind that sounded half decent slipped from his lips. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.” he lied.

Bucky caught on quick, an unhappy grimace etched his smooth features. “You’re really going to do this again?”

Steve nodded, slouched more than normally before shrugging to Bucky’s questioning. “Well it’s a fair. I’m going to try my luck.”

The same lecture, the very same words Bucky had used time after time fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t all wrong, but Steve quickly blocked most of it out and decided it was all or nothing this time. Or another time, or until they let him in or he spent the war in jail.

* * *

Steve’s eyes squeezed shut as he struggled to take in a complete breath. Sweat dripped from his brow and slid down his nose. His fellow enlisted soldiers ran around him leaving him in their plume of dust. His body hurt but he wasn’t at his limit to tolerate pain, yet. He was here training to serve to his best abilities. Steve was in his element.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter.”

Steve watched the mad scramble of the men attempting to show off and show out in effort to retrieve the flag. Steadily, his breath began to return as one after the other they failed in their mission. 

“No one has gotten that flag in 17 years. No come on, fall back into line!” shouted the staff sergeant. 

Steve stared at the pole, it looked about the same the school had when he was a kid. When some bully had stolen his scarf, his mom made, and hoisted up at the top of the pole. He worked for an hour to get it down, until he finally figured out another way.

And he did the same thing here. Pulling the pegs out from the base of the pole he yanked the flag off the end and handed it to the staff sergeant with a quiet “Thank you, sir.”

Steve planted his ass on the cushion seat of the jeep and took in the landscape. Peggy grinned back at him with her red lips, with a mischievousness in her eyes that made his breath catch again. The vehicle took off whipping Peggy’s brown hair in the wind blowing the scent of gunpowder and flowers over his face. He felt the rush. The noticeable drop in the pit of his stomach when he watched for too long.

The ride was a blur of victory and heavy imaginings of her round thighs spread open with his face buried in between them. As the soldier drove closer back to the base Steve slowly felt what he had for Ruby beginning to suck down his good mood. But Peggy wasn’t Ruby. She had the ability to make the world bright again. Peggy was strong, her position in service was relatable, and he could get behind why she had to be fierce. 

Her strength stimulated more than his dreams. Later that night, Steve’s hand shook as he reached through a gap in the tent. Peggy’s duffel bag, the flap was open exposing something soft, silky and he couldn’t resist the opportunity. Within seconds of his hand entering he pulled it back balled up whatever he had and stuffed it into his pocket. 

Steve glanced around in the dark and then faded into the blackness as he walked back to the latrine. He had thought he had smelled Peggy before. Steve felt lucky most of the men were in bed or the few that lingered were on their way out of showers. He slunk to the furthest corner just behind a cement pillar. His eyes darted around as he pulled out the article of clothing. Quickly he unraveled them to get a good look at the prize he had acquired. His shallowness breaths faded into wisps in his throat as he stared at her underwear. And without a second thought he pushed it under his nose and breathed in deep. 

His brain shattered with the vision of being this close to her in reality. Steve’s cock grew from soft to rock hard in less than thirty seconds. A gruff voice near the entry had him balling up the underwear fast as he leaned against the pillar. Steve closed his eyes, willed his erection to deflate without the satisfaction he craved. Deep sadness replaced the need, longing wasn’t far behind either, but at least in this moment her fragrance - it _belonged_ to him now.

* * *

**July 4th 1943**

This wasn’t what he wanted. He was a man of action, a weak man turned strong and here was, a grown man dressed in a costume peddling merchandise.

Yes, he wanted to serve his country.

More than most, he presumed. Steve pushed into his cabin with a sign on the door that read ‘ _talent_ ’ in an ornate print. He sat the shield against the wall and the fizzy wine that Hal, the manager had said was top shelf next to it. 

Three months had passed since the serum took to his system. Shot him passed the skinny guy, beyond the thin man with nothing going for him but the will to fight. _What was he fighting now?_ He didn’t even know. _Himself maybe?_ These days he was a shield toting, one liner circus monkey with all the warmth of two day old scrambled eggs. 

The door slammed shut and Steve peeled off the suit in front of the full length mirror. He stripped down to nothing and admired his new body. This hadn’t gotten old yet. Each time he caught his reflection, no matter the surface, it was always like seeing something new. Steve studied the changes across his chest again, the now thick hair that traveled down to his groin. The patchiness was gone, replaced with something he had wished for since puberty. 

The girls certainly liked this new body. He bet Ruby would have liked it too, his eyes traveled down to his cock, although she would have fought that, he considered approvingly at the length and width. 

Flashes of the pretty brunette named Betty circled in his mind as he considered what she would feel like around it. He remembered how much of a prude she was to the point of never going out with the other girls. Like tonight. A sweet girl though, a prig maybe, but she could be accommodating if the right pressure was applied. He bet she would wish him a happy birthday.

Steve got dressed quickly in some slacks, a plaid button up, his brand new shoes and headed to her cabin with the bottle under his arm.

He steeled himself and strode across the small parking lot toward Betty’s room. She had to have known how this worked. On the road, little entertainment to keep you sane except for the company of others. Steve knocked three times over the peep hole and waited. The door clicked from behind and then Betty’s face filled the crack in the door as she stared up at him with an open mouth in surprise.

“Steve?”

He pushed the door open and let himself in while ignoring her lip. Unable to keep him out she stepped back and crossed her arms over the thin robe she wore. Steve glanced around, the second bed in the room was still made, while the other was messy.

“Going to sleep early?” he asked and turned to look at her. “You know today’s my birthday, hate to spend it alone.”

But as she said something, he didn’t listen, his eyes traveled around her mouth and down the slender column of her throat. The seams of some tight nightgown seemed like veins under the robe that caught his eye.

She snapped two red painted nail fingers at him to get his attention. “Hey, hey, now I don’t know what you think this is. I’m not that kind of girl.”

Only girls that needed it, craved to be filled, bought lingerie like that. Betty was good, she was quiet but the way he caught her looking at him sometimes let him know she wasn’t as innocent like she was trying to seem now.

Feigning astonishment, Steve said, “What kind of girl?”

Betty tensed at his question, shades of pink began to rush up from her neck in blotchy patches. “Well, for starters..the sorta girl that has a man in her room she’s not married to!” she snapped.

Steve pulled out the bottle from under his arm followed by a smile. “Everyone else is gone. You’re a nice girl, Betty. I didn’t want to spend my birthday alone. So will you have a drink with me?”

She tapped one red fingernail against her thigh under the silky robe. Big blue eyes danced between the bottle and the hold he had on it. She bit her lip, and shrugged. “I guess a sip wouldn’t hurt.”

Steve was already moving toward her vanity. “But just the one!” she called after. He reached for two clean glasses near a small table littered with spools of thread in varying colors. He wrenched the cork free with a soft ‘pop’ and poured a generous amount in each one.

He grabbed up the glasses, handed one to Betty. “To a birthday well spent in the company of beauty.” he said in a low rich voice. 

Betty began to grin. “I’ve never had champagne before.” she said sweetly. 

“Well drink it up sweetheart.” And he downed the glass. Betty began to sip then delicately and purposefully Steve’s fingers tipped it back so she would get a bigger drink.

Betty was four glasses in compared to Steve’s one. He gave her space by sitting on the floor near her while she sat on the bed. By now the hem of the robe was open, the dusty pink lingerie was well seen. “You know..you’re..just the best.” she slurred and threw her leg up on the bed spilling the soft material between her legs.

Steve’s eyes glided to the bend in the fabric. “Tonya said you were stuck up. But not me. I always thought you were handsome!” she confessed with a hiccup.

Before really thinking and like most times jumping the gun by presuming when it comes to girls Steve’s fingers lightly stroked the inside of her knee.

Betty suddenly stopped talking, wide eyes stared as his fingers caressed her skin. “You’re the best girl around.”

When she did not resist, Steve got to his knees from the floor and leaned on the edge of the bed next to her leg still dangling off. Dumbstruck, Betty simply stared at him. Too dimwitted by alcohol and nerves she didn’t pull back when he kissed her lips. A sigh tasting and smelling like fermented fruit wafted up Steve nose.

He dropped the kiss and said, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

She flustered wonderfully at the question at the same time Steve’s hands glided on the skin between her thighs, up and up. Betty’s chest swelled into a stifled gasp as his fingers rubbed gently on the fabric of her underwear.

He remembered what Bucky said about girls, their body’s source of pleasure needs to be coaxed out like a frightened animal. So he swirled his fingers, feeling the groves of lips and folds at his touch. 

“I think you need a kiss,”

Betty smiled this time instead of a moan, she nodded quickly, closed her eyes and leaned forward for another kiss. But Steve’s hand pressed against her chest bone pushing her away. And as her eyes opened she fell back with a puff of bedding around her. He slipped her underwear off while she giggled softly in her awe.

“I--I’m saving myself.” she mumbled. 

“For what? It’s my birthday Betty.” said Steve as he hovered above her mound. “Let me show you a good time, honey.” 

Betty’s head fell back at the sharp sensation of Steve’s tongue as it swirled across velvety skin. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he followed the taste of her and the moans that escaped from her mouth. He licked the growing button the most while in between dipping into her entrance and back. It worked. Betty’s hands twisted into the sheets, her legs rigidly curled up to her chest.

“Oh my!” she moaned. 

Steve cupped her ass, her hips like a bowl and drank from her. He had always heard Bucky say it can take awhile, so he must have been great because soon Betty twitched and yelped with a noise he took for pleasure. He looked up beyond the silky gown to her face, a smile, a knowing grin took over her face as she wallowed in the feeling.

He knew that feeling. Steve sat up, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. As he watched Betty ride out her bliss he got to work on removing his shoes, and when he stood up above her he began to unbutton his pants. 

Coming too, Betty fluttered her lashes as she gazed at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t smile, not even a hint of what would come next escaped his expression as he pulled his pants and underwear down to his thighs. Betty sat up on her elbows while her eyes shot right down to his cock.

She pulled her legs together, wide eyes stared awestruck and worried. “I can’t..” she said. “It..it’s not going to fit!”

Steve dipped the bed as he got on, he pulled her legs apart as he wedged himself in between. “Steve...I--”

He ignored the desperation in her voice, the hesitation too. Holding himself up with one elbow on top of her, his other hand was busy prodding for her entrance.

Breathy words, swept over trembling lips. “I’ve never--” But she wasn’t able to finish, the air sucked back into her chest at the girth he had pushed in. “Steve!” she wheezed.

The panic in her voice, the near tears forming in her eyes did not refrain the need growing in his groin. She struggled some more to twist out from under him but he was stronger than he had ever been and held her down. 

He kissed her hard, though this time she tried to take bite out of his lip. “You're hurting me!” she yelped.

Betty worked herself up good. More tears burst from her eyes as he leaned in and kissed the side of her mouth. Steve decided Betty would never know how good it felt to see the fear replace uncertainty he now saw in her eyes. He wasn’t bound in this moment, not to good intentions either, or propriety. Steve thrusted in her wet cunt and went for another round. In and out, each time easier than the last in an effort to claim what was his. 

“Shut up and be a _good girl_.” he rushed out, he thumped into her and released her devastation.

Betty started to openly cry, it didn’t stop him. Steve put a thick hand over her mouth stifling her weeping. He sank into her, he felt her clench down and he almost blew his load right then. 

He could have sworn she was about to slip into unconsciousness when Betty went quiet, her eyes slammed shut as she held his wrist. But suddenly, with feral vigor, she bucked her hips and started to holler. Steve didn’t panic, he took her screams in stride and strokes, he placed both hands on her neck and leaned in completely blanketing her with his body. 

He couldn’t name it, the feeling, but stomps inside of him and fights back against her soft body. _Not good enough to fight, not good enough to dance with_ , thought Steve and squeezed her neck harder. He forced her to stare at him in the eyes while thrusting harder into her than before. She surrounded him completely, and violently he buried himself all the way to his hilt each time.

He could tell by the tightness in his balls he was about to explode. No more screams escaped Betty’s lips. She stared at him with tears dripping around vapid blinks. Steve enjoyed the silence and how her body suddenly seemed to accept the brutal prodding. She was a _good girl. H_ e moaned low and pumped in shorter strokes in trying to preserve her good behavior.

Steve’s hands slipped from her neck giving her a break by allowing her to not see the shadows dancing in his eyes. He put his chin on her forehead and wrapped his hands around the back of her head. She couldn’t prevent him from what he was about to do, but she pushed against his chest anyway. Steve spilled inside her, slowly he rubbed the side of his face over hers and felt his cock twitch as it began to recede. 

His breathing was the only sound he heard in the room. When she didn’t immediately swat at him to get off Steve jerked his eyes to Betty’s face.

She was white as a ghost, blue eyes, wide in terror stared back at him. “..are you--you going to kill me?” she asked with a frightened whisper. 

Headlights from the beyond the sliver of the closed curtains blazed across her pale face snapping him back to reality. Her legs trembled across his hips and folded her hands over her chest. Steve sat back with a lump forming in his throat at the sadness that was taking over her face. 

“You had a good time.” he said, though it was more for his conscience. 

Betty nodded fast, tentatively she began to draw her legs from around Steve. 

“You should probably keep this to yourself.” he mumbled and stood.

“I won’t tell a soul.” she added hastily. 

Steve did not linger about for the roommate to return. He fixed himself, ignored her silent tears and mumbling. He didn’t even look back when he walked out of her room.

Mulling over the fragility of life, Steve didn’t sleep. He waited by the shuttered window of his cabin watching for signs of activity. In the dark, his eyes scanned the parking lot, the coming and goings of the chorus line girls. It wasn’t until after 1 a.m. that the hysterical screams alerted him to what her room mate found.

Steve let the piece of curtain slip between his fingers as he listened to the wailing. Women’s voices rose up for another to hush, to calm down, that she’s lost her marbles. He sat there for an hour before sirens echoed down the street and pulled up at the motel cabins. 

He quickly undressed down to his tank top and boxers, he washed his face in the sink and messed his hair up when a knock came to his door.

It was Saul. The tour manager, a fat man with single strands poking out of the top of his sweaty balding head. “What’s going on?” asked Steve.

Saul hung his head, his lips trembled at first before he finally took a breath and looked up at Steve.

“You know Betty? Ya, Gertie found her just now, she’s a head case at the moment. Puke everywhere and she keeps going on about being a good girl. The girls tried to calm her down, but she’s going home...” he trailed off.

“Okay. I can’t believe it, she seemed to like her job.” said Steve evenly.

“I can’t either..but I made a few calls. Don’t worry we’ll have a replacement by the next country. Captain America will have all his girls there for the show.” 

* * *

**Northern Italy November 4th 1943**

Linda, Linda something, Steve struggled to remember her last name through a pile of other names deep in his mind. Everybody around here goes by their last name. Except _her_. The camps darling, the woman with a tender touch and fastest in stitching up wounds. 

Steve watched Linda pick up the gaze soaked in alcohol from the table near Bucky. He glanced over at his friend who was firmly watching every motion she made. Steve wouldn’t mention it but he can see the slight apprehension in Bucky’s eyes. But it was not about Linda or even the manner in which she sweeps it over a cut above his eye. The room made from thick fabric billowed around them with the next breeze and Bucky caught her hand. 

“I’m okay Nurse,” he said with a feeble smile. 

“I’m the authority here Sergeant. Now, hold still. I’m almost finished.” she said gently. 

The tent opened behind Steve, he turned and motioned to Bucky who was still eyeing the medical equipment on the tray. 

“Your presence is requested immediately Sergeant Barnes.”

“There’s your authority,” Bucky spoke up and dodged another swipe of the gauze. 

He stopped in front of Steve, “Come find me later after chow.” he added and walked out of the tent.

He watched him go for a moment before his attention was brought back to the clinking of metal from Nurse Linda. “Are you free tonight?” she asked with her back still turned.

“Or is it true you’re still holding out for Peggy Carter?”

Linda turned around with a pleasant smile. Steve’s eyes floated over her supple frame, squeezed into tight fitting utility overalls, before turning away his cheeks flushed to rose. 

“I don’t think it’s appropriate, fraternizing with fellow soldiers, Lieutenant.” he said, and soon followed Bucky’s path out of the tent.

“I was thinking maybe, if you wanted, you could join me later for a drink.” Steve made eye contact with Peggy and most of the words he was ready to say evaporated with her cold gaze. 

“I--” he stammered. “Haze has this white something or another, I heard it only takes a sip. But it’ll warm you up.”

She relaxed her stance, tilted her head at him as she spoke. “Ah, so you think I need warming up do you Captain?” she asked.

“Yes..I mean no. I just thought it would be n-”

“No thank you. I have quite enough covers to keep me warm at night. We’ll be shipping off first thing at light, I suggest you spend your time sleeping, alone.”

Peggy walked off, Steve slumped where he stood and sighed. _Christ_ , he was bad at this, bad at knowing her too. 

Maybe he should have listened to Peggy. Steve caught himself rethinking the moment over again for the twentieth time in the dark. Most of the camp was down for shut eye, the few awake remained on guard and attentive to battle if it should appear. But Steve stood near the women’s private showers instead of being in his bed. His eyes lingered on the fabric strung on either side of a short path, as a shield from prying eyes.

At first it was more to get a scope on Peggy. He told himself that standing there waiting was for a better look at what she had under that uniform. But welcoming him was someone not totally unexpected. 

Linda stood just outside the entrance of the showers, he was so close to the corner he could smell the soap on her skin. The shape of her body was full like Peggy with a large chest and wide ass. The feeling to reach out and touch her intensified. If he was ever going to know what Peggy could feel like it was now. 

Steve pushed back the tarp and ducked under the line. He grabbed Linda around the mouth, his other arm wrapped around her thick waist pulling her back underneath. She hooted under his hand until he clamped down around her neck blocking blood flow to her brain. Steve quickly looked around, no one was there and he knew that gaps in patrol could be used to his advantage.

His own personal tent was still there, on the outskirts of the other soldiers bunking up nearby. He dragged Linda’s body into it and got to work. He placed her on his cot with one of her legs still on the ground the other on the bedding, lifelessly her hands and arms draped over the edge. Steve was already starting to harden just looking down at her. 

He no longer saw Linda’s dishwater colored brown, blond hair. Her pink lips were replaced with red that Peggy never went a day without wearing. Steve undressed and stood above her stroking his cock. His eyes moved to different points of her body, the nipples poking underneath the tank top, her bush -puffy and rounded under her tight long underwear. 

Steve stopped wrapping his hand around his length and shoved up the top over her breasts. He moved and straddled the cot and yanked down her underwear all the way off until he saw her bare pussy. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered down to her sleeping face. “I swear it Peggy. You’ll never know an unloved day.”

Steve licked three of his fingers and swiped outside her entrance, he swirled the motion. Dipped a finger inside of her and then pressed on that special button with his thumb that was tucked under her folds. 

Linda wanted to scream; she held it in and hoped that her silence wouldn’t make him mad. Steve was staring at her lower half, she could feel him pushing a finger inside as she tried not to escalate the moment. 

But when Steve suddenly moved his body between her legs, his chest fell on to the top of the lower part of her face she screamed. He hit her hard knocking the next fit out of her mouth long enough for him to push inside her.

The familiar feeling returned while Steve was buried inside of Linda. But she, eyes wide stared at Steve’s helmet on the shelf near her hand. He held her arm against the edge of the cot for leverage and continued to invade her body. His pounding pace scooted the cot closer so that her fingers grazed the straps. 

And when he let her arm go and put his forearm into her neck she had enough reach to snatch it at the strap. 

With an unrestrained grunt, Steve whispered, “Peg-” 

He felt disrespected, Peggy was loud, too mouthy for her own good. The only way to correct her behavior was the old fashion way. Brute force.

Steve was nearly there as his free hand grabbed a handful of Linda’s right breast. He began to suckle it with visions of Peggy’s face filling his thoughts. But it was wrecked with a smack to the side of his head. It only made him pause long enough to realize that Linda, not Peggy was fighting back. 

Steve ripped the helmet out of her fingers so fast it dislocated her pinky from her hand. He was done with her tantrum, finished with seeing her face that didn’t belong to the woman he loved. He leaned back with her shoulders in his grip. Within seconds he turned her over on the cot face first, he took his belt and tied it around her wrists. 

With hard fought motions, Linda kicked as her legs were forcefully opened by Steve's large frame. He let her take his weight and wrapped a handful of her hair around his fist and jerked back. She was sweating and slick against his body to the point he nearly slipped off. Steve held the edge of the cot and returned to forcing his girth back into her snug cunt. 

This was better. He could really think of Peggy while in the act of breaking the camp's sweetest girl. And while her ass bounced and he slapped against it him he remembered the shape of Peggy’s ass. Same round, tender shape as Ruby too. As a women bound to him, once again, he lost himself in the moment. Maybe it wasn’t all about Peggy at all he hazily thought while his dick leaked pre-cum into Linda’s slit. 

Maybe it was more than bodies that were pliable and flexible under the right pressure. He rolled his eyes behind closing lids as his cock hardened to her pitiful moans. _Why does it feel so good to take?_ Didn’t matter, no use growing a conscious now.

Steve came too from the accusing thoughts, “You won’t tell a soul,” he sharply growled into her ear.

She tried to nod but he kept her head still. “I’ll destroy you,”

She tried to speak and tell him she never would but lips too numb to move simply trembled.

Steve’s breath rang ragged around her, his cock got harder and he thrusted into her one last time. His body flexed on top in a moment of pure bliss. He even moaned which turned into a groan as he came inside her unwilling body.

Linda’s mumbles turned to cries. Steve pulled himself out of her defiled body and let her go. Her face laid on the pillow, eyes barely open as she shook all over. 

“Remember what I said,” he said with a shaky breath. Linda nodded slowly while her eyes stared blankly across the tent. 

Steve untied her and stood up to the smell of sex in the air. He allowed her to dress, sorta fix her hair as he too began to put on his shirt and boxer for bed. Linda could barely stand, and walking was harder. She limped toward the tent opening without looking back. 

“Don’t forget.” 

Linda flinched at Steve's voice and kept going. 

Bucky flicked what was left of his cigarette to the ground as he walked up to Steve’s tent. The opening split into two and a woman emerged. As he approached it became clear her hair was like wire sticking above her head while she walked, cupping one hand in the other, slowly away from Steve’s tent. 

It was late, so he didn’t bother to address her. It was a regular thing sometimes between accommodating officers, two ships in the night, and whatnot. But as she walked past him, in the little light offered by the lantern he saw a bruise on the side of her face and arm. It was a sight for him to stop and watch after her. She didn’t speak and only stared forward with a lost expression on her face. Once the woman was lost in dark towards the women’s barracks Bucky continued up to Steve’s tent. He pulled back the flap and walked in on Steve fixing his bed.

“What are you up to in here?”

Steve glanced at the slit in his tent opening with a flat expression spread over his face. He ignored Bucky’s prying eyes and his observant snipe with some of his own. 

“I had a visitor, what of it?”

Steve sat on his cot as Bucky sat on the fold out chair. Bucky's gaze roamed and dipped around the room, no doubt looking for more than what he offered up. “Ya, I noticed.” he said with a suspecting tone. “She looked like she fell down a mountain.”

Steve stared at him, watching the once bright blue eyes continue to invade his privacy. Bucky was a haunted man, with an equally panicked distrust. That could be a problem later. Steve smirked smoothly, though the amusement hardly went to his eyes. “Well….maybe she did.”


	3. Hayseed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paring: dark!Steve Rogers, dark!Steve Rogers x ofc’s
> 
> Summary: Part of an elite military unit, Steve serves as leader while wrestling with his demons until the ultimate sacrifice.
> 
> Reminder that this entire story is explicit dark! 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Angst, smut, talk of virginity, non-con/dubious consent, assault. Proceed with caution.

**England: Nov 5th 1943  
**

Steve left the pub alone but with Peggy’s tight fitting dress on his spirit and war in his mind. He accomplished the task of assembling a unit to terrorize Hydra with, coined by Dugan as the Howling Commandos. It felt good to have a home again, a family or something sort of like it with the men he fought alongside with. Especially here, far from the city he knew like the back of his hand.

London was picturesque as far as he considered. Even with the buildings partly leveled, some completely bombed down to their foundations, he was happy to be here. He took in the site of skeleton frames swathed in gray fog and sighed. Yes, he was glad to be of service, finally. Peggy’s red lips against a smokey room drifted in and out of his mind as he concentrated on the cobblestone street beneath him. _Did she wear that dress just for his eyes?_

Clinking and clanking drew his eyes back up. His senses were sharp, efficient and felt little danger in the sound. It was a group of nun’s ushering the sick laid out in stretchers carried by officers that had seen more strife than him. He examined their gait, brittle and stiff and too prideful to give up. Once they disappeared down an alley created by fire he turned his eyes back toward the inn at the end of the street. 

He panned up to the side facing the windows of the third floor. The girls floor, thin silhouettes hidden behind curtains had him wondering if Peggy was somewhere in there. Laughing with her friends, joking and unwinding, cause god knows she needed it. He wondered if she too thought about him like he imagined her. 

Steve entered the inn, walked past the old woman minding the take in and began to climb the stairs to the second floor. 

“Captain.” the woman’s shrill voice came from the bottom of the stairs. 

A thin woman, aging well despite the nature of the city, his eyes fell to a slender hand holding out a folded newspaper to him. “You asked for me to save you one remember?” 

Steve stepped down, thanked her with a nod and proceeded to back up the stairs to his room. He unfolded the paper to a large print of : CONTINUE THE FIGHT as he walked in. He laid it on the small, cracked table and went about lighting the only lantern in his room. He shook off his jacket, hung it over the back of his chair and sat down at the table. 

He glanced over the front pages not overly curious about what the articles contained. On the second page though, he paused, a black and white photo of a few soldiers with Peggy caught his attention. His eyes lingered over her mouth, the shape of her face and eyes. Steve laid the paper on the table with its edges folding over the sides. He tore out a shape of her head and upper shoulders, then sat back in the chair as he held it up. 

“What I wouldn’t give…” he whispered to himself.

Steve stood up, walked to his gear in the corner of the small room and pulled out his compass. Carefully he placed the clipping within the top lid, he gazed at her face for a few more seconds and then shut it tight. 

* * *

**Belgium Jan 1944**

The evening sun sank beneath the horizon of a green forest. Burst of yellow and orange tangled with the wisps of grey rain clouds parting after the shower. Steve could smell the fresh but the light scent was tainted in the air by what surrounded him.

Steve stood far away from the burning pile. Occasionally he would glance over to watch the metal of medals and buttons melting in the flames. This was the answer the village came up with to cover up any evidence of hydra soldiers on their land. Grandfathers, young boys dug a large pit within the forest and buried the bodies without help from his unit. 

Now they stood in the darkening light near what was left of the population. Women aged from near ancient to teens dressed in tattered clothes moved about repairing what they could. 

“We don’t have much to offer,” announced Dugan and looked over at Steve.

Dugan grabbed his gear, his pack and fished out two large cans of beans. “Here, it’s not enough but maybe it will help.”

Steve walked further into the village, toward a house charred on the outside by fire. A woman was there, walking across the field with a bucket in tow as she waved in his direction. He glanced around seeing if it was him she was addressing for a moment, caught off guard by her excited smile.

She stopped at the end of the home where it made an L shape and ushered him toward her. His first thought wasn’t that this was a trap, but some odd offer that he had heard of from guys in his unit. Sometimes women caught without would do anything. 

Steve trailed behind her as she turned toward the hole in the home, she pulled back a large blanket and stepped in. He walked into the sound of water splashing into a larger pan. It was dark except the window, glass blown out the frame barely there. She finished pouring the bucket, the water sat in what appeared to be a cauldron that sat over a flame. 

He got a good look at her then. A simple dress, thin muted colors but tight around her ass and ample breasts. He thought her socks must have been white at one time, but now stretched out and rolled down, gray around her ankles. 

“Bath?” she asked in a soft timbre and pointed toward the corner.

He tore his eyes from the young woman’s calves and looked in the direction she signaled. It was a simple tub, long but tall as he walked up. She joined him with a smile, Steve watched her lean over to stroke the clean water already in it. His eyes dropped to the lost buttons at the top of her dress and what spilled out when one side folded open. 

“Bath?” she asked again and cut her fingers through the water. The young woman with dirty brunette hair looked up at him. 

His mind stilled, it had been awhile since he felt the skin of another that wasn’t a member of his unit. She was different, even though this bath was possibly for her, she offered it to him. A grateful gift that he didn’t want to pass up but knew he had to for the sake of setting up camp for his men. She was so inviting, a little hayseed in the rough. 

Steve looked around to the opening of the room, he thought about if he did have time to find out how deep her gratitude went. It was answered in a matter of moments once the flap was tossed aside and Bucky walked in.

Bucky chuckled low, waved his finger toward the fire. “Getting a home cooked meal?” he asked, walking over to the fire and peeked over at the contents of the pot.

“No,” answered Steve.

“Bath?” the woman turned to Bucky and splashed the water, she pointed at him, smiled and splashed her hand in it again.

“Hmm, if she wasn’t dressed I would have thought she was asking for something else.” said Bucky with his delighted expression bouncing from her to Steve.

“Cut it out.” said Steve and began to walk off. 

“No?” her voice called back.

Steve turned around, “Thank you. But no, please..for you” he said and pointed from her to the tub.

* * *

Steve’s eyes critically took in the shape of Jones’ jaw for a second, his pencil brushing the paper in short strokes, thin lines in an angular curve to what would be a neck. His stomach is heavy, but he felt this would occupy his time better than what he wanted. 

He felt warm near his shoulder in time to turn and see Bucky with his head close gazing at Steve’s journal. “He’s missing an eye.” offered Bucky.

“It’s just the start,” Steve said under his breath and stared at the sheet.

Bucky flopped down on his ass next to Steve and knocked against his shoulder in the process interrupting him more.

“Jesus, Buck.” Steve rolled his eyes and closed it.

He stared at Bucky, eyes shiny with amusement. “No need to stop on my account.” 

He holds up a cigarette to Steve as a peace offering, but he doesn’t take it. “Suit yourself.”

Steve watched Bucky flip the metal lid as it struck to light on opening. He drew in the smoke, flicked it closed and exhaled into the fire nearby. “What’s eatin’ ya?” asked Bucky and took another puff.

Before Steve could speak up Morita grunted as he sat down on the other side of him.

“God, I miss fat.” hissed Morita while slugging a metal spoon through gray gravy of a can.

Both Steve and Bucky turn to him, disappointment etched into the lines around his mouth he took a bite.

“Yeah, shit. I would kill for butter on some hot toast right now.” added Jones. 

Frenchie leaned in, a sneer of a smile under his mustache as he spoke to Jones. “Yes. And a pretty milkmaid,” he brought up his hands, motioning them up and down around a staff. “To churn the butter!”

“I’m sure you’ve helped a few girls make their butter.” chimed in Dugan as he drug his large bowie knife against a stone block.

“Aye, I have. One in particular comes to mind,”

Most of the men groaned as he said this. It was time for another story, dirty and much needed, but they complained about it anyway.

“She had two, big,” started Frenchie with his hands cupped in the air.

“Oh, come on!” laughed Jones to his left.

Bucky waved down Jones to button up. “Let him finish!”

Frenchie busted out with a smile. “Beautiful brown eyes, skin as soft as silk, and her hands…” He rolled his eyes like he was remembering in vivid detail what he was about to say. “Could work a stick all day.”

Dugan was the first to chuckle. “Ya, how long did that last?”

“I fuckin’ married her!” Frenchie laughed, so did the rest of them besides Steve, who shook his head and rubbed a dirty finger over his chin.

“It’s true!” said Frenchie pointedly at Steve and flashed a teasing smile. “You marry the one with spirit, smart, and a great pair of ...” 

“Hands?” interjected Morita.

“Breasts!” Frenchie snickered.

Steve glanced back at Bucky who was slightly laughing while watching Frenchie quietly joke around with Jones. 

“I’d settle for brains, a great cook too like my Ma to be honest.” said Bucky without looking at him.

Steve nodded, let his eyes fall back to the fire and thought about what he would settle for. Peggy came to mind, but even as smart and bold as she was didn’t touch the unnamed need. And then his mother appeared like a ghost in his mind but clearer and heartbreaking. Did she settle? Steve’s jaw rolled as he licked his lips while remembering the rows between his mother and father. He wouldn’t settle. But he wouldn’t be hard pressed either to find a good woman. 

Steve swiped the image of his mother from his mind, the noise of his father’s voice too. He brought up the pretty woman from the village. Dirty hair, ash smudged skin, but a pleasant mouth and kind eyes. She was the perfect release and she practically offered it up on a platter earlier. He had already promised himself he wouldn’t go back there. Which was why he sat here and attempted to draw. 

Steve placed his journal and pencil back in their proper place in his pack. “I’m going for a walk, check the perimeter. Barnes you're out there with Falsworth.”

“What’s the big hurry? Gotta take a shit?” asked Bucky with a hollow chuckle. 

“I’ll be back. Try to get some shut eye,” he ordered to the other men.

His own thoughts about what life could offer if he survived the war got him bothered. It got him despising his own place in the world. He definitely shouldn’t have been this far back in the wrong direction. But here he was squinting into the dark out of habit and stepped lightly through the grass. The border to the village and the forest was only a few feet ahead of him. He did not plan to return here. Had thought it was better in fact to leave the charred village and the cute woman alone and sleep with no guilt. Though to be honest, sitting by the fire, talking with his men was just a self inflicted barrier of sorts. A buffer, to give himself time to wrestle with his darker thoughts.

He hadn’t realized how silently he stepped around the outskirts of the homes until he came up to the one he remembered. It was a chance she was there, a total draw of his luck if his audacity paid up. As he drew closer, dim yellow light, seeped around the edges of the blankets that hung over the hole. He heard nothing, felt no danger too as he approached a part between splintered wood and the fabric. She was already there. Naked and bathing in the tub.

The familiar twist in his belly came flooding back. The same feeling of watching Ruby, something about unknowing that he was even there made his blood heat up. This time it was different though. While he was angry at Ruby it was easy to justify the action. But with this woman, she was a stranger in every sense of the word. No strings attached, zero accountability to be held if things went side-ways. This was war after all, and none of his men would ever know.

Steve rubbed his chin and looked around at the field to ensure he was indeed alone. Somewhere close but far enough away a child cried along with the muddle voices further away. And then, slowly he peeled back the material shielding the room from nature and stepped inside. His eyes were stuck to her figure. She was sitting with her back turned toward him, using an old container she poured the water over her hair splashing it down her back. 

One step, and then another the fragments of burned wood cracked under his footstep. The woman jumped around slinging the water in the container out of the tub. Hands flew to cover her breasts she slunk down under the water with a squat. 

Steve held his hands up palms toward her, “It’s okay.” he whispered and removed his helmet to the floor. He shrunk his body down while holding his hand up still. “It’s okay,” he said again, stepping closer.

With her brown eyes narrowed defiantly up at him he approached slowly. Drawing himself up to full height near the tub he jerked his chin at the water signalling he was here to take up that offer. Steve peeled off his jacket, she shifted away in the water. When he went to remove his suit top she stood suddenly, halting his movements, and grabbed for a large blanket while stepping out of the tub. 

“Now, now...:” he said slowly, closing off her only escape. 

“No...no..” She shook her head and pressed her body against the crumbling wall. 

Her eyes are what does him in. The fear, it stopped him for a second. But he hushed her anyway by pushing a thick finger over her plump lips. His heart raced with touching her, it concerned him a little at how hot he could get with just this simple act. 

Under the broken roof Steve pulled the woman from the wall and wrapped one of his arms around her waist. In the back of his mind he hoped she doesn’t hate him, that she will come quietly despite her fear. But she trembled in his arms anyway, he can feel her feet digging and sliding over the grime of dirt and debris. And he does not stop walking her back to the tub. 

It was when her thighs pressed against the rim of the tub that a sound of sob tumbled from her. Steve took a deep breath, savoring the moment as he tugged at the top of the blanket around her shoulders. Her death grip didn’t give. At first he didn’t bother force it, maybe a part of him wanted her to want it too. 

“I’m not going to hurt you honey. I’m nice, okay?” 

Victory, the woman relaxed, he felt her muscles of her back slacken a bit. Slowly he pulled down the thin blanket with a hand still around her waist. In the candle light, her skin glistened with moisture still clinging to her. He jerked it down letting it fall down her back and flap over his arm as he stared at her breasts. 

He wanted to taste them right then but he stopped himself. Steve bent from around her, cupped some water in the palm of his hand from the tub. It could hardly pass for a hot bath, but he brought it up and poured it over her chest. His cock flexed as the water cascaded over her soft supple skin to the tips of her nipples. 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, raking the back of his wet hand over her cheek. “What’s your name pretty lady?” Tugging at the blanket around her hips he let it fall completely. 

“Katharina,” she said softly, scared. 

Steve rubbed his nose against her moist temple, placed a kiss near her ear as he began to unfasten his pants. 

His lips moved to her ear as he spoke, “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. 

She was shaking in his arms still, coming apart at the seams with her wobbling fingers grazing over his arm and holding back another sob.“You don’t have to be scared. It won’t hurt.” he reassured.

Steve’s nose moved to the back of her head as he pulled his pants down. That was when his mind began to wonder back to the camp, the men, and inevitably about his parents. In an effort to shake the thoughts away he carefully grabbed her arms and forced her to place shaky hands on the rim of the tub. 

_Fuck_. The noise inside his head wouldn’t stop. The woman made another whimpering sound so he wedged a dirty boot between her feet opening her legs. He could hear her breathing become more shallow while he palmed his cock. It was hard, but not raging like it should have been for a moment like this. His eyes flowed over the dips and curves of her hips, the dark shadow splitting her ass into two halves. Her body seemed to be enough to keep him hard so stepped up closer, lined his cock up. But his thoughts still kicked around his head. 

He rubbed his cock again willing it to stay hard but it began to lose torque. The woman, Steve’s eyes moved to her head in time to meet her eyes. It was like being hit with a hammer, right in the middle of his balls. She showed more in a single glance than the whole time she put up a fight. That was it, he was soft, just like that. Steve pulled up his pants far enough that his cock and balls were barely covered. He walked to the only chair in the room and sat down.

His father’s voice was raging in his mind, the wail of his mother followed after. And Ruby, her cries beneath a pillow plowed through stronger. He stared at the woman, she stood dipped back down and drew the blanket back around her body.

“Go. You can go, I’m sorry...for this.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest and turned his eyes down to the floor.

He wasn’t surprised to hear her scurrying around collecting her things. But just as she was about to walk out she suddenly went silent. When Steve looked back in her direction she was there holding her dirty clothes and staring at him.

It didn’t make sense to him but he watched her anyway. She dropped them on the floor and cautiously began to walk back toward him. She was within touching distance if he chose to reach out, but he didn’t. Instead she, with a steady hand, laid it on his shoulder.

“Thank you,”

 _For what_ , he wondered. _For not attacking her?_ _For the food earlier?_

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off her though. Her eyes were back to being kind but he couldn’t read much more about them. He offered up a stiff smile up at her and she stepped closer to his side. He watched her eyes drift from his face, down his chest, to his groin still exposed. Quickly her eyes jerked back to his, in the light he saw her clean skin changing colors to blush. 

He blinked a few times wondering if he was seeing things as she leaned down to him. Lips already partially puckered; she kissed him chastely on the lips. 

_Didn’t she know how close she was to being really hurt?_ He asked himself this but he still took what she was bringing to him. She kissed like it was the first one she’s ever had with a man. Closed mouth, quick and dry. 

When she went back to his mouth a second time Steve hooked a hand around the back of her head. He stuck his tongue out along her bottom lip, and then kissed her. When she moaned into his mouth his cock locked on to the feeling of her breath over his chin. 

“I want.” she whispered. Tentatively, Steve could see her hand gliding over the fabric of his armor closer to his length. She rubbed her hand over it and said again. “Want.” 

Steve nodded slowly as his hand pulled at the blanket and as it fell to the floor his hand, rough fingers glided down the middle of her torso. His eyes focused on her large breasts and fatty belly as his fingers began to rub and leave indentations in her skin. 

And then around her mound Steve turned his hand up, pushed two fingers between her folds. When he looked back up at her, the woman’s lips were parted in a soft gasp. She was wet, hot and he pressed a finger just inside her entrance. 

“Want?” he mimicked her request. 

She nodded with an upturned tug in the corner of her lips. Steve pulled his hand away and rested it on her hips, he placed the other on the other side and pulled her toward him. His hand glided over her thick thighs as he guided her to straddle him. The chair creaked as she held onto his chest. He moved his cock toward her warmth until he connected. On her tiptoes, he returned his hands to her hips and urged her to take him inside her. Steve was lost in the image before him. A woman, her first time making herself take his length. Half way down Steve thrusted up, he couldn’t help it, she was tight and time was short after all. 

It didn’t take him long before he was controlling her and setting the pace. With both hands full of her supple ass he pumped up into her fast, causing incoherent mumbling to fall from her mouth. She barely bounced, but he made up for it by jutting his hips up. He felt her stretch around him every time he sunk it and after a few long minutes the woman collapsed upon his chest. 

Exhausted already he thought, but he can feel her gently grinding within his grip. She clutched his jacket, titled her face up to him with wide eyes. Her mouth hung open, her hips seized up, or at least tried to but Steve kept pumping anyways. He had never felt a woman do this, she fluttered around him, milking him. Like a maid and she was doing it for him. Steve couldn’t hold it any longer and came deep inside her. 

His head fell back against the broken bits of the chair. She kissed his neck lightly, even licked him as he felt the release quickly turn into the need to leave. 

With not a lot of grace the woman knocked Steve’s knee as she got off of him while pouring his seed across his skin and the bottom of his jacket. He tried to wipe most of it away with her blanket as she wrapped back around her body. 

He dressed fast after checking his watch. She looked groggy, but happy at least as he stared at her before he walked out of the room. 

“Thank you Miss,” he said on a huff “..for your hospitality.”

Bucky struggled with a thought, even more so to describe the look on Steve’s face as he watched him exit the home. He told himself he only wanted to know what Steve was up too. That his friend probably was eaten up with guilt they couldn’t provide more to the villagers. Or perhaps the reason Steve ordered him to the farthest point was for his sake, far from the fighting and given some peace while on look-out.

But as Steve walked further away from the home, a woman tumbled through the entry barely clothed. So Bucky matched Steve’s steps along the perimeter of the village until he waited for him to enter the forest. 

The night is dark, pitch black without the help of a moon. Bucky watched the shadowy figure of Steve approach until his friend stopped and looked around his immediate area.

“It’s late for a walk,” whispered Bucky snapping a low hanging branch as he came from around a tree.

Steve doesn’t move, but Bucky can hear the exasperation in his voice, “What are you doing out this far?”

Bucky doesn’t skip a beat. “I could ask you the same thing.”

He could hear Steve’s lips part and go back together as he thinks of what to say. 

“What were you doing in there?” Bucky asked before Steve spoke.

Bucky audibly sniffed the air, “You don’t smell cleaner.” 

The flick of a lighter passes between them, a flash of light ignites the curious gaze of Bucky’s eyes as he lights a cigarette. 

“Are you bugging the locals? The pretty girl from earlier?” he asked with it pinched between his teeth and snuffed the light with a flick of his wrist.

“Just some down time Buck, no need to get worked up.” said Steve.

Caught red handed, Steve did not feel particularly open at the moment to say more. He continued passing Bucky on the way back to the campsite.

“Hey, I don’t have to remind you we are United States soldiers.” Bucky strained through a whisper. 

Steve stopped and rounded on Bucky. “What is it you think I did?” he quietly demanded.

“I think you might have done something she wouldn’t have liked.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Steve urged.

Bucky inhaled deep, then presses again,“Ya, what are you now?” He exhaled quickly speaking louder than he intended. “A pervert in a giant meat suit?”

Steve glared at Bucky through the dark and stepped up closer. “Let’s get back to the camp. We’ll talk about it once we get Zola.”

Bucky said nothing after. He blew his smoke in Steve’s face and walked by himself back to the campsite.

* * *

**February 5th 1945**

Bucky might have found a better way of getting out of this moment. He was always dependable like that. Easy going on the outside, but stood firm where it counted the most and always found an alternative if the original didn’t suit him. Like with his Pop. He wanted a son who would follow in his footsteps, and maybe Bucky would have if given the chance. 

Now his Pop would only get a letter.

The control wheel shuttered and shook under his tight grip. With nothing else to be done Steve pulled his eyes from the panel to his left to the sky at the nose of the Valkryie. Clouds for miles dotted with the blue above, darker hues of water from below. 

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?”

The humor in her voice sounded forced over the words. He can see it in his mind, her big brown eyes full with tears, a half amused smile spreading her red lips.

“You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

Bucky could dance. The bastard was smoother than butter on the floor. Steve remembered Bucky as hopeful. Sweltering with charisma but kind and honest. Steve hoped he could be those things despite the moments he indulged his worse traits. 

This act could make up for it. The wheel rattled again with the drop in altitude. Steve refused to focus on the white icy land quickly growing bigger in the windshield. He thought of Peggy, in that red dress from the pub.

“I’ll show you how. Just be there.” she cried softly.

Here it was, the end. It started as a feeling in the back of his neck and traveled to the top of his head. Steve shuddered, felt his skin prickling down his arms. He thrusts the control wheel into the panel driving the plane faster toward the end ensuring it was enveloped into ice.

“We’ll have the band play somethin’ slow. I’d hate to step on your…”


	4. Wile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Steve’s been defrosted and back in full force. 
> 
> Reminder that this entire story is explicit dark!
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Steve’s pretty bad, we know this lol: Angst, smut, stalking, non-con/dubious consent sex, assault. Proceed with caution.

**April 2012 - New York City  
**

> _“You’ve been asleep Cap, for almost seventy years.”_

More like dead to the world, but not forgotten by history either. Steve walked with little purpose on a sidewalk he had been down more than a dozen times before. East Village had changed but then again it had not. Same crowds were there, with different clothes though and different destinations than in the past. 

Two weeks out of the ice and he was still shell shocked, coping, but permanently changed by the reality. If his Ma was still around she would have loved this. He could see her in his mind piercing together where old shops had been versus what occupied the spaces now. So he did that instead. Walked down the sidewalk toward the looming, clunky tower growing larger the closer he came. 

Steve turned the corner hoping to find a small diner still there. It was a bistro now, the second part of the building was no longer there. And in its place, outside sitting. He took a seat somewhere in the middle. Steve’s eyes stayed on the traffic, ticking in his brain each thought he saw a new model variety of the vehicles passing by. 

“What will it be?” asked a soft voice. Steve glanced up, the voice belonged to a pretty face so he smiled kindly back. 

“Coffee for now.” he said. 

“You sure? We have a truffle fries with marinara as today’s lunch special.” she asked while writing down his order.

“I’m not sure what that is...truffles.” he hesitated, grabbed a sugar pack and began to fold it in his hands.

“What? The fries or marinara?”

“The truffle?”

“It’s a fragrant mushroom, bought fresh just this morning.”

Steve turned his back to the traffic, he shook his head ‘no’ stiffly. “I don’t think so. Thanks, though.”

She hummed an okay and walked away in front of him to another patron. He got a good look at her then. Through a squint he eyed the blond against the view of a new hummer, that reminded him of something he saw in Germany. She held his attention enough though. Her peach colored top complimented the blush in her cheeks, it pressed against her back with a tiny breeze revealing a curvy waist from behind. He was a man out of time, but at least the women still looked the same. 

She disappeared back into the bistro as his eyes drifted up, higher and higher to the building behind smaller ones. STARK was written on the side, he wondered what Howard would say of it. While shiny, updated unlike most of the architecture around it Steve figured Howard would have liked some tradition about it. What that looked like though, Steve couldn’t imagine. 

When she returned with a small mug, Steve glanced up at her badge this time. “Thank you Beth.” he said and smiled again.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Do you need anything else?” she asked while topping off his cup. Steve’s eyes fell to her apron tied around her waist. 

“Can I borrow one of those?” he asked and flicked a finger in the direction of her apron. She smiled, handed it to him with a nod. “Thank you.” he said again.

As she walked away he took a sip of his coffee, then flipped over the menu and began to sketch. For a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut while remembering his entire field of view. Putting it to use he began to connect lines, and shapes. As Steve drew, his mind flattened out unencumbered by the surroundings he thought about the only thing of comfort, the past. 

For a brief few minutes he felt like himself as the smells of the street, the conversations bustling around him set him back to 1937. Before he was even a man remade, who had never hurt anybody, at least not really bad. He had already lost so much, so it didn’t bother him to remember Peggy in her red dress, the mischievous glint in her eye that said she knew exactly how she appeared to him. 

The image in his mind was in stark contrast to what he knew what she looked like now. Old, with years behind her that he was not part of. 

He had even looked up Ruby, the bakery too. He learned her father passed away a year after he enlisted. She took over with the help of her aunt, that Ruby married Billy Calloway, gave birth to the first of six kids a year later. The bakery was still there even though she was long dead and Steve would have to let any resentment die too. 

Steve jerked his head up. The waitress, Beth, was back with a grin not unlike the ones Peggy would give when she thought he wasn’t looking. But he was done with this table, and tired of the memories that came with it. The time was now, he needed new moments, he needed something more than the dead haunting his thoughts.

He threw on the table enough to cover his tab plus twenty more just for her. He had too much time on his hands, idle with the past and guilt that he survived, he followed Beth back into the bistro. 

She was easily quick to rile up. Beth pushed a long tendril of hair out of her face as she blushed. 

“Can I call on you sometime?” he asked in the sincerest tone he could come up with.

He could see the yes in her eyes, but she gave herself room, dignity maybe by making him wait for her answer. Slowly she nodded, held the round serving tray closer to her chest as a shield. 

Steve straightened his back, flashed a half smile. “What about tonight?”

“Um. Sure. Where were you wanting to go?”

“I can meet you at your door, maybe grab a slice and get to know each other better.”

Beth nodded again but she walked over to the service station with Steve in tow. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said under her breath. Beth grabbed a small square of paper, wrote quickly on it and handled the scribbles to Steve.

He glanced it over, it was Beth’s address, her phone number too. 

“You can come around 5, is that okay?” she said quietly. 

Steve pulled out his wallet, placed the paper inside. “I’ll be there,” he said with a smile. “I won’t be late.”

He turned from Beth, walked out of the bistro with a satisfied air about him. The door of the memories slammed shut at about the same time the bistro closed behind him. He could make another choice after all. The strange feeling of nostalgia faded away and was replaced with something akin to hope. 

Steve could carve a place out in this world. He just needed to make a large enough space first.

* * *

Around six thirty Steve read his watch while Beth continued her story about a customer from the previous week. He tried to stay engaged in casual conversation, he attempted to appear like he too was having fun, but it fell flat. _Who would have thought being in a bar could be so monotonous._

Not that she was wholly boring. Far from it actually, he thought and his eyes drew back to Beth’s profile. Her voice was deep but light with a childlike smile that followed every sentence. She was sweet and round in the places he preferred. The evening sun caught the color of her hair and for a few fleeting minutes Steve wondered what she looked like naked. 

If anything, going into the ice and then reemerging did nothing to taper his drive. These lonely nights saw more of him palming himself now though, than ever before. Not that it was difficult to find relief in a suitable partner. Women didn’t hold back these days, confident, sometimes brash he could have slept with all of them. 

But here he was with Beth who still mumbled away. Steve waited for her to take another sip of the cocktail before he touched her chin. Surprised Beth turned her head along with his motions until she was looking directly at him. Steve moved in closer across the booth seat, his arm rested on the top as he enveloped her body with attention. 

He kissed her once and pulled back to study the reaction. A small smile started at the corner of her lips as he went back in for another.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked in a sigh. Steve said nothing but nodded slowly while staring at her mouth. Maybe the night wouldn’t be as dull.

Steve flipped Beth on to her back, spread her legs apart by holding them over his arms and then laid on top of her. Once well pinned blonde hair wrapped around her neck and fell into her eyes as he grabbed her wrists.

She gasped, “Wait don’t do that.” 

Her eyes darted over his face and he felt his blood pump faster to the head of his cock.

“What is it?” 

Her arms twisted in his grip and felt the surge yet again.“My wrists..I--someone..”

Steve offered her nothing except a nod. He wouldn’t push. Within this world he was lost in at the moment it wouldn’t be good to get stuck in a hot seat over the likes of her. He would have to endure the urge for now. Steve slid his hands down her forearms in a feigned act of release, slowly he glided down to her breasts and pressed his lips to hers. 

The night tumbled on, after that she fucked like a feral cat after that. Swinging her tail and hips up to meet his, snarling when she was about to explode. He let her have some fun while thinking about what could have happened to a girl like this. 

She rode him hard and he began to imagine her tears at the mercy of a faceless man. Drawing circles with his finger tips, he crawled over her hips, waist to her neck. Beth cracked a smile, her pulse beneath his touch beat wildly while she kept the pace. 

He was about to peak, breathing hard, labored as her squeaky moan clawed against his nerves. When she tried to slow and wiggle into her orgasmic bliss, Steve grabbed her hips and pumped into her ensuring he got his.

And when he finally left her place his mood wasn’t settled. Steve walked back to his home with regret. He thought about how plain the encounter turned out to be. If she had simply let him take control she might have found a piece of herself she had never seen. 

* * *

Steve wondered obliviously about the amount people of this age that fucked without commitment. He picked up a bag of some kind of lettuce he had never heard before and checked from the corner of his eye. 

A blond hair woman passed by to the next aisle. She hadn’t called him in a week. So he figured it was his duty to follow up through any and all avenues available. He had never been on this side of things before. Usually he held all the cards, the power in a situation. 

He dropped the bag into his basket, directed it to the next aisle over and began to execute yet another interaction. He strolled through the condiments remembering bumping into her at the farmer’s market a three days ago. Steve scoffed in his head but it came out through stiff lips. _Farmer’s market?_ In his time it was just the store. Another through back now but it still grated on his nerves. He shook the thought from his mind and considered how transparent her life was. Hell, she made it so easy for him to see exactly what he was looking for and he couldn’t get enough.

Steve’s passive face twisted into something like to pleasantness as he picked up the pace to the end. And just as her cart came into view, he shoved the end of his right into the metal of hers.

He popped out a calm, but regretful mumble. “Sorry ma’am.”

Again, playing like he used to on stage Steve’s brows arched in surprise as Beth recognized him immediately. 

“Steve!” she said with a bubbly smile. 

Sincerity dripped from his words as he apologized. Today he got her attention. And for the future, he knew he could do better. 

* * *

**June 2012**

Steve had done more than his best. Aliens, gods, portals to other realms blew open his eyes wide and got to work doing the only thing he knew how. Lead, fight, kill. The after was up to him though. He decided that Nick Fury had the answers, but whether or not he would tell the truth, Steve did not know or really care. He just knew that while years had blown by what was left of the now still continued to make the same mistakes. At least he had a place in the world again. And at least he could push down any anger he might have felt with how he got here. 

Steve held the phone up to his head, still not used it, he gripped crooked and tilted his head as he walked. He ignored the familiar unsteady, battle ready, energy that churned through his veins. He threw in a couple of files from the table into the box. Took a long pull off the neck of his beer while he listened to her voice on the other side of the phone.

“Yup, that’s the one,” Steve sat his beer on the table and then pushed a box to the other side.

He sat down, still holding the phone, and propped his elbows on the table. The energy wasn’t dissipating he thought while listening to her and rubbing his face. Back then it was easier to decompress with friends who had seen the same things. 

Steve didn’t have friends or anybody close to what he thought about Peggy except the voice on the phone.

“Sounds like you’re pretty close, I’ll see you soon.”

He pulled the phone from his head, glanced at it in time to see her hang up first. He leaned back in the chair, his eyes rolled across the room and stared at the television set in the next room.

A talking head chattered about the fight from a few days ago. Steve had seen this one before. He had watched very little else if it didn’t have something to do with the events of that day.

_**“During this crisis, coined the Battle of New York, heroes appeared, are they what they seem to be?”** _

Steve didn’t react when the image changed to Beth. She was a mess of dirty smudges all over her face, messy hair and a wild scared fear in her eyes.

_**"What, that this is somehow their fault? Captain America saved my life. Wherever he is and wherever any of them are, I would just... I would wanna say thank you."** _

Nothing would ever be the same again. Hell, that had been a truth since he was a new recruit, but every year since it always upped the anticipation. Now it was to a point that the path he was on couldn’t be derailed even if he tried. It was uncharted territory to him, but it was the waiting too for something worse to happen next. 

Steve stood up, walked to his sink in the kitchen and let the faucet run to cold. Hot wasn’t the word for it, and especially so with the power flickering in and out after the attack. He cupped the water in his hands and splashed his face. He stood straight and let it roll down his jaw, neck and to his white tank top. 

The lights faded to dark with the knock at his front door. He clicked on the lantern on top of his fridge before answering it. And when he opened it, Beth stood there looking just as hot as he felt. He invited her in, glanced over her hair bundled at the top of her head and the too short shorts wedged high between thick thighs as she walked. He didn’t even realize she was holding a plastic bag until she wandered to his table.

“I brought take out. I hope you’re hungry.” Beth went about unloading the bag one container at a time.

He had an appetite for something. She started to speak but was quickly stifled when he put his hand over her mouth. Steve didn’t give her a minute to begin to rationalize what was happening. His free hand roamed freely over Beth’s chest, down her stomach to the elastic band of her shorts. 

His nostrils flared up at the scent of her neck and the sweat beading in her hair line. That energy in him kept breaking forward, pushing him to act in hopes something would give him some relief. She didn’t fight back. _Good_. But she did whisper, a feathery tone slipped between his fingers.

“You’re scaring me…”

Beth let Steve do the talking for a change. “I didn’t mean to.” he said calmly but was he was sweating at the thought with heart racing need.

“You’ll have a good time.”

Steve didn’t know how but his hands shook, it was minute, she probably missed it. But he felt the tremor in his hand as it slid from her mouth to her neck. The skin of her neck was slick, the rapid pulse underneath it shot into his fingers as the urgency to take her took over. Steve’s mind went cold just before. He roughly jerked her shorts and underwear down around her thighs. Slowly he grabbed her wrists, she tried to pull back and his cock ached in his pants.

Beth’s mouth parted from the gasping but slammed shut with his touch. 

He couldn’t help it, a depraved grin twitched in the corner of his lips. “What’s the matter honey?” he breathed into her ear.

“Did somebody hurt you?”

Suddenly the lusty gaze she had drained. She was still, with her chest quickly rising and falling with his words. Her eyes fixed on the curtain right in front of her without speaking much, a feeble _please_ was all Steve really heard. 

She strained against him as he brought her hands behind her back. He held her wrists in his grip and pushed her down with the other. He shoved the food further down knocking over his box of stuff without recourse. 

“I could hurt you...nobody would ever know.”

Steve wasn’t shaking anymore. His hand was quick, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his long, raging hard on. He licked two fingers, gathered spit at the tip and swiped them up the length of her slit. 

She jumped at that, suddenly becoming aware in the experience and tried to resist. Steve stepped forward, with his thumb pulled back one half of her folds and forced the head in. His hands slipped over the sweat of her ass as he sunk in deep. Her mumbling hung in the hot sticky air around them. His eyes stayed on the back of her head, rising higher and higher with every inch he inflicted within her. 

Not so fast, Steve thought. Giving her zero comfort he shoved her back to the table with a rough hand. He didn’t take his eyes off her face, after all it was the best part when he gave into his desire. The uncertainty, the trace of anger too in her expression made him snap his hips harder until shock took over. 

She probably would have fucked him freely, but that wasn’t the point. Steve reveled in her bated breaths, the terror that filled every clenched muscle in her body too. At the cusp of his own pleasure a thought took root. Beth was attractive, not really his type though, she was different than Peggy, but pretty enough. He hadn’t really put a word on what she was to him other than a nobody. Insulting her while balls deep inside and now the thought of her none value made him harder. 

He wasn’t inexperienced now. Far from the skinny kid fumbling away on top of his dear departed Ruby. Steve slapped Beth’s ass hard imprinting the shape of his hand over her pale skin. He joined his hand with the other around her wrists and fucked her fast and deep. She wasn’t at her limit, yet, but he could see the trauma already starting to nick at her mental state. That she would remember this moment for the rest of her life.

Steve let his desires hang all out as he watched her give in to him. He had no idea fear could make a girl _so_ wet. He pounded away, his eyes were still on the side of Beth’s face and he could feel how close he was to cumming. The energy that called for action fell away the moment he did so. Steve shoved himself, all the way and spurted inside her. With a sigh, a hopeful whisper from her that signaled maybe she was done Steve dragged out of her. He was still hard as a rail and pushed back inside her.

“I know--who you are!” she croaked. 

Steve’s libido came alive once again and began to slowly pump back into her. “Steve Rogers. Captain America!” she yelped.

“Say it again baby.” he said on a grunt.

When she didn’t speak up, Steve took one of his hands and grabbed the back of her head. 

“What’s my name?” he asked hoarsely. “Don’t hold back now, slut.”

The calm he found shook to something like a peaceful anger. Steve tightened the hold on the roots of her hair daring her to misbehave. He picked up the pace again, barreling into her with fury.

“Say it.” he demanded harshly.

“Captain!”

That was it for Steve. He closed his eyes to the image of her beginning to weep. “Keep saying it.” he gritted between tight teeth.

She mumbled between sobs, “Captain…” she wept.

Steve felt his balls hitch with her pitiful tone. He was going to cum again, but this time something more was attached to it. Power and he had it over her. 

“Captain..”

He pushed her face back into the table and prepared to let her have his final blow. He let go of her wrists and hitched to her ass holding her there as he pounded away. “Say it!” he shouted.

His toes curled and his hips grinded rough as he waited for her to give him what he wanted. And she would too, or there would be hell to pay. 

“Captain America..” she cried. 

Steve’s mind cleared behind the blinding white behind his lids. The thoughts that weighed him down, the flashbacks that clung to him on a daily basis finally receded in a moment of pure bliss. But the feeling was temporary, fragile even and it snapped back like a twig. And Steve didn’t deny what he had to do to achieve that momentary silence. He let her go and stepped back from Beth’s crumbling body. 

She slipped from the hunched over position and on to the floor on her bare ass. Panties still wrapped around her ankles she slunk back against the leg of the table. Wide blue eyes stared up at Steve as he fixed himself.

“What are you going to do with me?” she said softly with tears pouring out of bloodshot eyes.

Steve refused to confirm her worst fear. He wasn’t even sure to be honest. 

“You know who I am,”

Beth shook her with a nod quickly. “I won’t-”

He interrupted her with a tut-tut of his finger, “You know what I can do,”

Beth nodded once again and tried to suppress another sob. 

“Then get out,”

Steve stood there as his answer finally blinked to life in her eyes. Beth moved with rigid motions, she gasped out weak cries until she finally stood. As far as she could walk around him she did, by hugging the fridge with her back while never turning her eyes from him. 

When the door shut behind Steve he walked to the window, slid back the curtain a bit and looked down at the street. The lamps seemed to be on, with a few shops too but not so much for the rest of the block. He waited there for a while. He shut out what it did as another hiccup in his personality. She wasn’t hurt, badly and would get over it eventually. 

Finally, he saw her walking from the building. With her hand over her mouth Beth looked up to his window with pain etched across her face. He wasn’t sure if she could see him as clearly as he could see her. But he held the gaze, stony with little regard for her tears. Beth looked away quickly. She started walking but it soon turned into a jog.


	5. Promised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Steve is making his way in the world.   
> Reminder that this entire story is explicit dark!  
> Chapter Warnings: Angst, smut, non-con/dubious consent sex, assault. Proceed with caution.

**Jan 2014 - Washington D.C.**

As far as Steve was concerned this world and most of everything in it was rotten. Of course it was just the same before he went into the ice. But now, walking from his best girl who was an old woman, he couldn’t help but wonder what else was lost that he wasn’t even aware of. Dramatic. Yes, he had a knack at deep, sorrowful prose in his head and expressed it at the end of his fist. Whether that was with a pencil, sketching the world as he saw it or landing a blow to a well deserved bad guy. 

Steve got on his bike, rode it through the capitol while thinking about the violence it took for this city to become this beacon of freedom. A steel lump as impenetrable as his shield but light as air ballooned in his chest when he thought about how much he played part in it. There was no such thing as peace. Not truly and the path to get there never got easier. Stability was for other men.

He tossed back the thought as his leg kicked off his bike after he parked. Steve looked up at a large building, above the double doors a sign read in bold homey letters the Department of Veteran Affairs. He hoped Sam wouldn’t mind much that he dropped in. He was another patriot, fought hard, took orders but he was different too. Maybe he was like Steve too in that he was aware that not everything was as it seemed. 

Steve walked through the doors and was undeniably hit with the smell of perfume. Not heavy, but definitely there, surprising. There was an office just to his right, with large windows shielding it with the efficiency of government property: you’re welcome but don’t stay long. But within it appeared a woman who, just by being there, had improved the mood of the room. Something living within brick and steel. Potted plants in groups of two and three were dotted around the entryway and near the booth. Steve’s eyes were drawn back to the figure beyond the glass. A tall woman, brown skin, with braids flowing down her back. He sniffed the air again as he drew closer, she was the source of the mild fragrance. She turned from a shelf with a few folders in her hands while glancing at him. Steve nodded towards her, taking note of the red lipstick on her full lips, she continued her work but then performed a double take he thought was humorous. 

She mouthed the words oh my god while cracking an unbelievable smile. The woman lashes fluttered in what he could only think of as embarrassment. She walked across the booth and stuck her head out of the door.

She rested her head against the frame. “Steve Rogers?” 

Steve felt something different that he hadn’t in awhile. He looked from her towards the open double doors separating this room and the hallway. Heat rose from his chest, higher to his neck. By the time he looked back at her he was sure that it was on his cheeks too.

He walked over to her as she stepped out of the booth. He held out his hand, shook hers gently. 

“Yes, I’m Steve Rogers. I was looking for Sam Wilson, mind pointing me in the direction?” 

“Steve Rogers,” The woman kept shaking his hand slowly while her eyes moved over his face. For a moment Steve stared back, he became swept up in her shock, she was cute and her amazement made him feel good too.

“I’m so sorry.” She suddenly blinked and let go. “Yes. I was supposed to show you the grounds first. Sam said you might come by.” She turned quickly back to the booth, “The world war two memorial went up a few weeks ago.” 

She returned with a set of keys, she locked the booth and rejoined him with a giddy smile. 

“Yes!” The woman shook her head and rubbed her face covering a mortified expression. “My name is Aurelia. I’m your escort here, at least for the moment. Please follow me.”

Steve followed Aurelia through another set of double doors across the entryway. Through a series of locked areas the two of them finally made their way to a large open area. Propaganda posters were draped around, weapons were encased behind glass, as were dummies wearing the gear of the day too. 

“I’m sure you would remember this,” she said in a soft voice. The way she spoke, reverently, had Steve turning his attention toward her. He was almost eye level with her gaze, “I’ve worked for a year on this, my great grandfather was in the 107th.”

She turned her head toward a tattered American flag.

“I see.”

His memories pushed down on him again. Ones where he was nothing but a prop but having heard about Bucky’s capture gave him the courage to act. 

“You saved him,” Aurelia turned to Steve. She pointed up at a large monochromatic photo behind another glass case. She moved closer as her finger lingered in the direction of a man. He was standing more than a few men deep behind Bucky. 

“That’s him, he said he was saved by Captain America.”

Steve was pulled into the moment again. Shaking hands with grateful men in the midst of smoke and destruction all around them. Every face was remembered in agonizing detail.

“Gregory Hamill,” He stared back at her, surprise etched on to her eyebrows.

“Yes..” she said in awe. 

“I have a good memory. He was a good soldier.”

Steve wondered if he should have said something else. His heart beat faster while he looked back at Aurelia. But she was still staring at the photo, lost in thought maybe he considered. Aurelia stared at him for a moment, teetering on the edge of saying something Steve wasn’t sure. But then she smiled and with a thoughtful touch of his arm motioned him toward the other set of doors. “Sam is down here in the theater. He’s with a group, but it’s almost over.”

Steve walked near her and passed a few rooms in silence before she looked over to him once again. “So have you enjoyed D.C.?”

“It’s good here, a lot more quiet.” he said with amusement.

“Well it’s better if you know the right spots.”

Steve took her advice as a moment to take it further. He suddenly stopped while she turned, “Is everything okay?”

“So why don’t you show me the right spots. It’s almost seven, are you getting out of here soon?”

Steve watched her face turn from passive to surprise. She fumbled with the keys, promptly dropped them and as she stood back up opened her mouth, then shut it again.

“Just some good company,” he reassured.

Aurelia’s voice sounded far away, feathery and it seemed like she spoke before thinking. “Yes, of course. I’d love to. I’ll meet you back at the entry.” She smiled.

“Um, just around this last corner and up the hall to your right is the theater. Sam is there.”

Aurelia’s grin never faded, she walked backwards while watching him. “I’ll see you soon then.”

“You will.”

* * *

Aurelia wrapped her arms around Steve’s waist and hung on tight as the two of them rode toward a peach and orange evening sky. Delighted by her touch Steve couldn’t keep the crooked grin from curving his lips. 

Once they were within the area, Aurelia began to give directions by pointing left and right. Street lights flicked on as the sun sank deeper and nothing looked too familiar. But he remembered the layout as he drove, it was a habit built from utility and never really left him. Music began to bellow out as they passed clubs, the streets night began to come to life as people became thicker on the sidewalks. He parked outside a bricked building, holding her hand he assisted Aurelia off and then himself. 

Through a narrow metal door, together they walked into it. “It’s a bit of a hole in the wall, but their catfish is amazing.”

Steve moved through the motions of getting to know the young woman across from him. He ordered drinks that burned his throat but did little to improve his mood. He nibbled on his steak, taking small bites between answering her questions of a time long gone. Her laughter came and went with the rise and fall of the conversation. He kept up with her drinking after dinner, while it did nothing for him he casually watched as her shy expressions turned brazen.

“I can’t believe I’m out with Steve Rogers,” she hiccuped. “I read about you. Do you know that? Every kid in America knows about you...well at least if they paid attention in class. And I did, extra close, because I spent one hundred grand on a bachelor's degree in history..” 

Steve slumped forward in his chair, elbows on table, imitating what she would read as a relaxed inebriated position and he brushed his hand over hers. “I can’t believe I’m out with you, Aurelia.”

Her dark brown eyes moved to his thumb rubbing over the top of her hand. “..But I have to be honest,”

Steve didn’t move his hand, “What’s that?”

He studies her face for a moment. She’s not surprised, but determined. “I’m married.” said Aurelia without blinking.

He didn’t miss a beat. “What about it?”

“I..” she cleared her throat, and glanced at his thumb now rubbing a circle. “Well, I didn’t want to give the impression that this would go any further.”

“What if it did?” Steve tipped his chin up, held her hand between his. 

“It’ll be our secret. Just two people, passing, no strings attached...”

Aurelia grabbed her glass and drank the last bit of her frilly pink cocktail. Breathing heavy her eyes drifted to the other patrons. No one cared about the two people holding hands in a dank dark diner. 

She pulled her eyes back to Steve’s light, curious gaze. “There’s a motel, a few blocks south..we can walk there.” she said finally. 

Steve’s mind flashed to the moment his cock entered Ruby’s tight, wet cunt. Aurelia licked and sucked along his shaft and thought about how similar her mouth felt to Ruby’s body. He couldn’t help it. She was his first and cycled through his sensations and what he knew about the female body. 

Spit hung around her thick lips in strings when she pulled back and peered at him with hunger. “I want you to fuck me Steve,”

She wobbled toward the bed, naked and round, Steve kept his eyes on her ass while she bent over the edge. Inviting him to take part in another man’s wife he stepped up behind her, slid a hand around her throat. 

He could hear the hesitation in the beat of her heart. Quick, ratta tap tapping of her beat and skin moist with sweat made him tighten his grip. His hand slid from around her throat, with both hands he glided over her body until he squeezed the fat of her hips. 

His cock ached, his mind wondered with how much he could get away with too. 

Steve brushed the head against Aurelia’s wetness and began to sink it. She tried to fall forward as he pushed in, spread and stretched her wider but he pulled her back onto his shaft.

Her words jumbled and strung together into a single hiss. “Jesus…”

He dug in deeper, heart pounding, Steve appreciated how tightly she was clenching around him. Within the span of fifteen minutes he had her crumbling to the bed, mewling, and carrying on about how big he felt. He licked his lips, tasting sweat and lust across the tip of his tongue and held her up for more. He pounded into her, used her beautiful body to ride out the moment he could really show her how the super-soldier fucked. Aurelia, pained and slurring her words, palmed his wrist, she put a knee on the bed and tried to crawl away. 

A sudden squeak tumbled out and drug out into a chirpy wrecked sound. She couldn’t speak. Just rattle and moan out in desperate high pitched grunts the longer he pounded. Tired of her falling from his grip, Steve pulled out and pushed her down. He flipped her over by her thick long legs and pulled her ass to the edge of the bed. 

Before she could say another word he was balls deep back inside of her. Legs hanging over his arms he curled his fingers around the back of her neck and jammed himself back inside repeatedly. 

“Steve..”

He kissed her hard, stuck his tongue in her mouth and swirled it with hers. “Fuck me,” she chanted. Steve wouldn’t hide the delight. A smile rose, split into a toothy grin before kissing her again.

“Doing so good, baby,” he whispered. His skin blistered to her insistent whimper. His blood ran hotter with the thought of praising her.“Taking this cock so good.”

Lazily she nodded, tried to smile too through her discomfort. “Please don’t cum in me.”

Was that a tease? Whatever it was, her words erupted in his mind. Of course, a married woman, a cheating whore wouldn’t want another man’s seed. The high of the taboo did little to fizzle out the fire roaring in his groin. Steve kept going even as she realized, with disbelief, with what he was about to do. Aurelia dropped her hands to his chest. She pushed with his pull. He curled her body underneath him, encasing her in a prison of arms and legs. 

“I bet your husband doesn’t fuck like this,” Sweat beaded and dripped down off his face and into the heat around them. 

“-going to cum in you, whore..” He shut his eyes, relished in betraying her trust. Tit for tat, Aurelia cursed his name while he did just that. 

Afterward, while coming down from the sensation Steve did something different. He caressed her face forcing her to look him in the eyes. 

“I told you not-”

He kissed Aurelia, sucking her words away with his greedy teasing. She relaxed as he let her legs fall and for the first he enjoyed the truce between his body and mind. He fell into the reprieve gladly and openly. Again and again Steve pecked and licked her lips. She returned the kiss and melted into him. So calm under his attention he fought compulsion to pin her to the bed. He tried to escape the driving force by peppering the side of her lips with more kisses.

Hot against him still her body arched and rolled under him. Steve tried again to bat away the image of depravity he wanted to enact. He tugged on the tips of her tits while licking her bottom lip. But it returned with her moan. The imagined scene in his mind unfolded anyway, in which the further he forced his cock in, the more it hurt her, making her tightened and get more wet. And where he had control not only in bed but in every level of her life. His cock hardened more as the vision synchronized with his true thoughts. If she acted up or stepped out of line she would be spending the night with his cock jammed down her throat. 

He suddenly stopped kissing her, and halted the caresses too. He pulled himself from within her and stood up. He couldn’t bring himself to do what he yearned to do. 

Ruin her. 

* * *

**January 13th 2014**

Shrapnel in the form of shards from the devastated hellicarrier billowed around his body. Glinting glass, black smoke, and steel beams floated in and out of his vision. At the center and swathed in destruction, there was one person he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

Bucky was alive. 

He took the beating if it meant Bucky would come back. And for a few fleeting seconds maybe he did. Steve swore he saw the sorrowful recognition in his eyes. 

Brain swelling, blood pumping in his ears the explosions were nothing more than warped sirens in the back of his head. 

His body hit the water at the same time Steve opened his burning eyes to another room. A hospital bed, hard but he gave way to it despite the dream. The cacophony of blasts faded to a soulful voice softly crooning near the bed. He turned his head to the man on his right. Sam sat there, nodded off into an unpeaceful sleep.

Steve smiled, more like a grin that didn’t hurt as much.

“On your left.”


	6. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has his friend back, but at what cost? And where will that road lead him...
> 
> Reminder that this entire story is explicit dark!  
> Chapter Warnings: Angst, smut, non-consensual sex, assault. Proceed with caution.  
> A/N: Shout out to my bff & beta @titty-teetee!! We got here! The end of such a great journey lol. Glad you were with me! <3

****

> **May 2016**

Inside a glass case within the heartbeat of the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Steve stood observing the dozen or so monitors. One in particular kept his attention. A box, a protective cage made of metal and thick clear shielding. The room Steve stands in is cold and unfriendly with straight lines, and clear sight ways that only tell him where he is in the building. Nothing much to go on. And nothing that says that his friend will be okay. The guards finished securing Bucky and for a moment Steve couldn’t make his brain and eyes stop searching for the unresolved answer. 

“Hey, you wanna see something cool?”

Steve reluctantly turned away from the monitor in the direction of Tony. He looked tense, pulled together as usual but put off too. He wagged a black slender case in the air. “I pulled something from Dad's archives. Felt timely.”

Same Tony, thought Steve, using something from his time to tempt him into compromise. Steve sat, leaned back in the shiny chair and regarded Tony with an impassive expression. Tony slid the box between them and sat on his opposite.

“FDR signed the Lend-Lease bill with these in 1941. Provided support to the Allies when they needed it most.”

Steve remembered the day reflexively, it wasn’t hard to forget, the protests against the Nation selling weapons marched on for weeks before it happened. “Some would say it brought our country closer to war.” 

Steve can see the air within Tony deflate before his eyes, but it doesn’t stop him. “See? If not for these, you wouldn't be here.” Finally, Tony’s flat mouth, tugs up into a passable pleasant smile. 

“I'm trying to . . . what do you call it?” The smile is gone and with it the attitude.

Tony relaxes more, comfortable and close, like old friends next to Steve. “That's an olive branch. Is that what you call it?”

Steve takes the bait knowingly, he can see the concern all over Tony’s face as he rubs his mouth waiting for him to say something back. “Is Pepper here? I didn't see her.” asked Steve, defusing the air around them with a neutral topic.

“We're kinda . . . well, not kinda . . .” he fumbled for the exact words.

“Pregnant?” inquired Steve.

Tony scoffed, “No. Definitely not. We're taking a break. It's nobody's fault.”

“I'm so sorry, Tony. I didn't know”

The peace around them never really was. Steve feels that now even as Tony speaks. It sounds like something he has had to practice to himself.

.

“A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA . . . and then Ultron. My fault. And then, and then, and then, I never stopped. Because the truth is I don't wanna stop. I don't wanna lose her. I thought maybe the Accords could split the difference.”

Steve’s eyes follow Tony, suddenly and noticeably uncomfortable with his confession he stands and paces while he speaks.

“In her defense, I'm a handful. Yet, Dad was a pain in the ass, but he and Mom always made it work.”

Steve, hopeful and wanting to compromise on some level, offered the only person they truly both knew. “You know, I'm glad Howard got married. I only knew him when he was young and single.”

Steve saw the snark all over Tony’s face before he spoke “Oh, really? You two knew each other? He never mentioned that.” 

Made to fit and absolutely paid to do so, Tony handles his finely tailored jacket in both hands with a repressed smirk on his lips. “Maybe only a thousand times. God, I hated you.

His words hurt Steve a bit, like a hangnail, irritating and constantly nagging that it’s there. “I don't mean to make things difficult.”

“I know, because you're a very polite person - in theory.” Tony puts his hands in his pockets, stares down at Steve. The expression is flat by all standards, but his eyes glint with unspoken truth. “Or maybe you don’t want the world to know your dark side?”

Steve’s lip twitched. Heart starting to slam in his chest he bats it away by balancing between duty and panic. “And what would that be?”

Tony concedes with a grin. “Dad liked to write a lot. Do you know he had at least ten journals per year, minimum. Not that there’s much to go on about you..but inquiring minds could probably connect the dots.” Tony shrugged. “Look - point is, we need oversight. We can’t just go anywhere we want without repercussions.”

“I know that, Tony.”

“We’re the major players here. We want to help? Make sure that the world is ‘safe’? Then our decisions have consequences.”

“If I see a situation pointed south . . . I can't ignore it. Sometimes I wish I could.”

“No, you don't.”

The heat rises higher and comes out as a thin smile upon Steve’s lips. “No, I don't. Sometimes…”

Tony rolled his hands within the luxurious fabric of his pant pockets. “Sometimes I wanna punch you in your perfect teeth. But I don't wanna see you gone. We need you, Cap. So far, nothing's happened that can't be undone, if you sign. The past is the past. We can make the last 24 hours legit. Barnes gets transferred to an American psych-center . . . instead of a Wakandan prison.”

The sincerity in Tony’s voice struck a nerve. True or not, something had to give in this tug of war. Steve left his face impassive while picking up one of the pens, no need to give Tony too much hope, so he stood holding the weight of it in his hands. It felt like so little, but heavy too to what he should do with it. Bucky needed help and he would do this for Bucky if need be.

He drew Tony’s eyes back to him when he spoke. “I'm not saying it's impossible, but there would have to be safeguards.”

Tony hides the excitement behind the house of cards of words and sits down to ensure Steve that all can be well. “Sure. Once we put out the PR fire, those documents can be amended. I'd file a motion to have you and Wanda reinstated . . .”

“Wanda? What about Wanda?”

“She's fine. She's confined to the compound, currently. Vision's keeping her company.” he said quickly.

“Oh God, Tony! Every time. Every time I think you see things the right way . . .” Steve couldn’t stand it. Walking away, he attempted to cool his anger.

The disbelief was tight across Tony’s face but comes out in a pacifying tone, “What? It's a 100 acres with a lap pool. It's got a screening room. There's worse ways to protect people.”

“Protection? Is that how you see this? This is protection? It's internment, Tony.”

“She's not a US citizen.”

Steve, still bitter rounds on him again, “Oh, come on, Tony.”

“And they don't grant visas to weapons of mass destruction.”

“She's a kid!” Steve called out.

“GIVE ME A BREAK!” Tony shouted up at Steve, his own frustration breaking through. “I'm doing what has to be done . . . to stave off something worse.”

Steve refused to look away. Tony sat there, not turning away either. “You keep telling yourself that.” Steve wiggled the pen in the air and sat it back down next to the slick black box. “Hate to break up the set.”

* * *

Hearts, a lump of muscle and blood wrapped in the tension of fear and hesitation. Somehow, in this big wide world, it became the central motivation, the stuff people wrote about, love, gave people the will to live. To beat, to thrive despite the pain inflicted on the person. 

Love and family, a home; those were the things he had wanted. Today he hardly recognized himself. But he always knew her. Steve palmed the compass for yet another time, he held the metal delicately and stared at it as he replayed the kiss on the tarmac. Sometimes the smell of her would be enough to draw it up. Made him ache for her too in ways only a husband could share with a wife. A partner for life. The warmth of her mouth, the smell of smoke in her hair with the shampoo lightly coating the scent too. Lavender? One time at an apothecary in London he had thought he recognized the scent. She was made of more intricately fragile things that he was too busy to appreciate. But then there were days like this. On and on, the moments like this, gazing longingly at a face that no longer lived, it did things to him. 

Steve continued to star at her face and felt nothing but regret. He took a deep breath, felt the pang overflowing into his chest, snagging on more memories of what he had done. Hell, what he was willing to do to find anything that felt like peace. The beating truth of it all, he was not the man his mother wanted him to be. But he would do the only thing he was truly ever good at, get up and keep going. He wouldn’t skip the chance again. He would never hold back again. 

The hatch of the quinjet began the slow descent. He pocketed the compass and turned in time to see Natasha’s blonde head, a surly smile upon her face and a bag slung over her shoulder. She boarded the ship in a huff of sweat and ruffled hair. 

“Took you long enough,” she poked. Dirt, leaves, chipped off in cakes from the bottom of her boots as strode toward the cockpit. 

She took up the second seat next to Steve, sat her bag between dirty boots and rubbed her face.

“Would have been here sooner,”

“Ya, I know,” she began digging into her bag. “I hope the Wakandans can help Barnes.”

She rummaged some more and pulled out a bag of donuts. 

“I’m going after the Raft,” he jerked his chin toward her and motioned for her to share. 

She held it close to the vest and dug in. “Good.” she said under her breath. She bit down big and started to chew loudly as she spoke. “ I’m sure Clint is enjoying the food by now.” 

She tossed the paper bag to Steve. “Should be pretty easy,” she smacked. “Security isn’t the problem, it’s the system. But I think I can get around it.”

Steve chewed in silence, lifted his head and surveyed the forest nestled in around the craft.

Natasha took another bite, mouth full, with a finger covering her mouth. “Too bad we got Sam mixed up in all of this,” she mumbled.

“He’s a good man,” said Steve, eyes still scanning. “Better than me..”

“And Barnes?” she asked and took a long drink off her canteen. 

Steve shrugged, unsure as to what she was referring to.

“He’s done terrible things, Steve.”

“So have you.” he countered, now aware of what, or rather whom she was talking about.

“I haven’t done what he has.”

“Get to it Romanoff,”

“Before,” she began carefully. “At the facility when Zemo activated Barnes he attacked and assaulted a female scientist by the name of Awenha Tiakan.”

Steve sat back with a sigh, still studying Natasha’s worrisome expression.

“Do you think he can account for that? Or for anything he’s done?” she asked.

He thought for a moment about his own behavior in the past. 

“Everyone one of us can only be what we want to.” Steve grabbed for another pastry. “I think you can agree with that..”

* * *

> **After Berlin, in the forests of Austria**

The woman didn’t break down under his grip, yet. Cooing and moaning, he slammed into her harder shaking the table’s legs. Sweat pouring down his forehead, hips pounding rhythmically with his top lip curled over shiny teeth he hissed with pleasure before bottoming out. 

It didn’t feel like he took advantage. She was pliable under his direction, fought very little, but the pain on her face kept him hard. At least what he could see of it, Steve wrenched his hand back, twisted her head with the handful of hair he had in his fist. 

“Still with me?” 

Smeared eyeliner curled down her face in dark watery lines. Frightened eyes, peered up at him. But his focus dropped to her mouth, open, pink wetness undulated with her terrified whimpers. It was enough to satisfy him. 

Steve pulled from within her, forced the woman to her knees, directing her every moment by the hand he had on the back of her head. 

“Bottoms up fraulein.”

She didn’t open her mouth until he pushed at her lips. Once in, he worked his cock down her throat roughly, ignoring her gags and slaps. He held her head there, spurting and feeding her his resentment. After a minute Steve allowed her to breath and slid her face off his cock. He let go of her hair and she hit the floor on her palms. 

Two years worth of hiding had done little to curb this habit. Today it was Austria and tasting the wares the land had to offer. 

Steve righted his pants, ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair and wiped the sweat off his face with the shirt he tore off her body. It didn’t matter how he had gotten here. Was even less of a thought about how he left the woman there and walked back to the street like nothing had ever happened. 

Or that even as he returned back to the safe house he could smell her cheap perfume on his skin. Steve got into the shower as soon as he stepped foot into the broken down flat. He barely fit under the head pouring water over his body. Flushing away her salty tears, and saccharine scent. 

When he finished, Steve went about making himself a small dinner of bread, some leftover warm cheese and a glass of sparkling apple juice Natasha had managed to get a hold of. Steve looked at his phone on the counter, as he had so many times before. No messages, no calls.

Today either Wanda or Vision would be calling. Well they should be, not that they would. But he continued the routine, to eat what was on hand, then check the local news, and finally make his way back to the jet and ensured it was still hidden.

He was almost done when the phone buzzed from behind him. It nearly passed his senses he was so used to it never going off. Steve quickly walked back to the kitchen, stuffed the bread between his lips and flipped the phone open. 

The screen flashed: **Tony**.

Steve took a deep breath before hitting the now bright green plastic button. “Hello? Tony?”

“Steve! Oh my god, it’s really you!”

He paused for a moment, the voice wasn’t unfamiliar, in fact he knew it well. 

“Bruce?”

“Steve. Tony is _missing_ \-- you gotta get Vision..he’s in danger. We all are.”

* * *

> **Right After The Blip, Wakanda**

The panicked screams cut across the city in waves between sudden collective gasps. He can hear the delicacy of the normal tone of her voice in these moments, but it breaks, spreads apart with the sound of his name. “Steve?”

He can barely look at the woman in front of him. The composed hysterical energy about her is starting to come apart. 

Natasha glanced at Steve, she knows they need to get back to the compound but she doesn’t want to leave her like this.

“We have to go now Awenha,” said Natasha. “We are going to do everything in our power to bring them back.”

Steve still says nothing, takes his guilt with him and walks away back to the quinjet.

* * *

> **Post Blip**

Steve still continued to dig out a routine. Trying to make sense of his life now, rather than the pieces he had only a short few months ago. In doing that, though flailing about in despair, he found that combat was no longer an option to bury his feelings in. But the missions came and went without the bang he longed for, fewer now with the lack of people, but the bad guys didn’t dry up either.

As Clint had said so many times with pain and hate in his eyes, “They get to live, while others died.” Steve took it to heart, but he wasn’t willing to go through with Clint’s spiral of revenge. Bucky popped into his mind, he remembered his face the look of silent shock before he faded to nothing. There was no way he could continue, as mad as he was, with just mindlessly murdering.

The day he left the compound he could have sworn he saw a tear or two in Natasha’s eyes from the other side of the room. He promised all she had to do was call and he would be here if she turned up anything substantial. But he kept walking, drove all the way back to Brooklyn and began to carve out a life, or some semblance of one.

One of the stops on his daily routine was a shop, newly reopened. Kind staff, people who offered a cup of coffee and a smile gave him hope with just this simple interaction. He was on his way out for an arranged meeting at the local Veteran Affairs representative when his phone rang.

Steve paused on the sidewalk, stepped aside, though there were not many people out anyway. He leaned against the wall and held it to his ear.

“Steve? Hello, it’s Awenha.”

He couldn’t believe his ears, “I’m Bucky’s-”

“Yes, of course.” He suddenly interrupted, not wanting her to have to go through the pain of remembering. “How are you?”

“Better, both of us. I will be coming to the States soon. My family has a home there, in Harlem. The Wakandan outreach is in need of help.”

“I understand,” said Steve, not wholly sure where the conversation was heading.

A pause, neither one of them said anything. But Steve can hear the laughter of a small child in the background. He wondered if she would ask. The thought lingered in his mind while he remembered their previous conversation about being there for her if she ever needed it.

“I am aware of the city,” she began in a small but strong voice. “But I was hoping that you could meet us here?”

Steve’s phone buzzed and he held it away from his face. His eyes fell on the screen, a map appeared, with a yellow way point outside of the city.

“Would that be okay?” she asked.

Steve nodded with his answer, “Absolutely, yeah. I’ll be there.” A true smile spread across his lips, the first in a very long time.

“I’ll meet’cha there.” he assured.

* * *

_She walked through the yard, he could hear her steps sweeping along the grass. Steve opened his eyes to the shade of the trees he laid beneath. He turned his head toward her soft laugh floating down to meet his smile._

_“Hey you,”_

_Her mouth didn’t move, her voice entered him, surrounded him until the sun exploded into white creeping spirals of light._

Steve sat up from his couch rubbing his face hard, eyes blurring until nothing was left but the wedged sliver of light cutting across his face. Dazed, but coming out of the dream Steve grabbed his phone and checked the time. He hadn’t even realized that the early work out, and not sleeping the night before had caught up to him. He wasn’t late, but getting close.

Steve got up, reached for the big floppy stuffed dog for a waiting little girl not too far away and put it under his arm. 

He had a pep in his step as he approached the front door, with the dog in one hand and a satchel in the other excitement coursed through him. Awenha’s face still hung in his memory as he stepped out of his house, and shut the door behind him. 

Today he would be around _family_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank ya'll so much for reading this and following along! For those who might have happened across this, it's not the end! The beginning starts at Outsider and follows through to Outsider pt 2 (With Steve) and then Outsider pt 3!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] Outsider: Steve Rogers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741165) by [Call_Me_Kayyyyy (Cheeky9274)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheeky9274/pseuds/Call_Me_Kayyyyy)




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